


A Reason to Be

by TripleB851



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-30 10:58:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 50
Words: 99,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14495457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TripleB851/pseuds/TripleB851
Summary: This Fic considers the question, what would have happened post bay ending if Jefferson hadn't been caught as well? In this story Max is forced to deal with the loss of Chloe, while still having to finish the work they had started together.There will be a reader choice 2/3s of the way in, with each path being completely different, and having 2 endings of their own for a total of 4.





	1. Chapter 1

** Chapter 1- Friday the 11th -PM **

“Alfred Hitchcock famously called film, “little pieces of time,”... These pieces of time can frame us in our glory and our sorrow.”

Experiencing a sensation reminiscent of being woken up with a bucket of water, Max Caulfield’s consciousness had just reconnected with her present day body. Neurons form her brain had fired out signals to her extremities, as her eyes shot open and she gasped for breath. She had just made the hardest decision of her young life, having agreed to honor her friend’s last request. Despite every fiber of her body telling her not to, she used the photo to go back and let Chloe die in order to save the town of Arcadia Bay.

As Max’s mind became acclimated with her new present-day body she frantically scanned her surroundings to get a feel for where she was. In the midst of trying to identify the people staring back at her, a bright light suddenly flashed on. The flash of light left her momentarily disoriented until her vision cleared. The brunette opened her eyes to find herself back in the photography lab in Blackwell Academy, hearing a lecture that she had to endure numerous times over the last week. The class was organized with tables positioned to form a square, leaving an open space in the middle for the students to direct their attention at the professor. Victoria Chase had just answered yet another question; before Taylor Christensen tossed a ball of paper at Kate Marsh after waiting for the professor Mr. Jefferson to have his back turned.

_No…not this again, Max thought as she watched the familiar scene play out in front of her for yet another time._

In the next moment, as Max was still in a state of disbelief over what was transpiring, there was a loud thud off to the right at the windows. Recalling the cause of the impact from the nightmare, the brunette closed her eyes, reluctant to confirm whether the sound was due to the same source. After a momentary delay, she winced at the sound of another thud before the intensity increased to the degree of a large hail storm, as the entire window was covered in blood.

“Max!” someone shouted in a muffled voice as the noise stopped. The sound of her name jolted her out of the state of shock, before she opened her eyes to the sight of the entire class staring back at her. At that moment, Mr. Jefferson approached the brunette with concern written on his face. He paused before reaching out to touch Max’s shoulder before saying, “Max, are you alright?”

It was that touch that pulled Max out of the flashback. Unsure if she was actually back in reality, Max blinked several times whilst scanning the room. After confirming that she was in fact in the photography lab, panic suddenly struck as she considered the possibility that she had found herself in another nightmare. The brunette looked around frantically searching for any indication otherwise. Not to be calmed until she noticed her father, Ryan Caulfield, standing next to her with a hand on her shoulder.

_So that was dad I heard, not Jefferson. Max realized, deriving immediate relief from it._

“Max! Are you alright?” Ryan asked, now becoming more concerned by her lack of a response.

“Yeah…the flash of light just blinded me for a bit,” Max replied trying her best to play it off like nothing had happened.

“Yeah...sorry about that,” a nervous looking guy standing by the lights said, “didn’t mean to flash it right in your face.”

“Idiot,” reporter Maggie Maggenhall said injecting herself into the conversation. “Sorry about that Max,” she said apologetically while sitting down across from her. The female reporter was in her mid-thirties, relatively short with black hair, and dressed in a fashionable pant suit resembling that of a real estate agent. After the obligatory comment to Max, she became preoccupied with adjusting her clothes and making sure every strand of hair was in its proper place. Shortly thereafter, the cameraman held up three fingers to indicate they were ready to start, before beginning to count down to one. On cue, the reporter smiled at the camera before turning her attention to Max.

“Well first, let me thank you for taking the time to share your story while you are going through this traumatic experience,” Ms. Maggenhall said in her best news anchor voice. “First, can you recount what you witnessed in the moments leading up to the shooting?”

Suddenly noticing the camera pointed at them, Max recognized that she was being interviewed by the local news. The realization resulted in the onset of a full-blown panic attack as the attention of everyone in the room had become fixated on her. Consequently, her heartrate increased as the attack progressed to a sensation akin to having the air forcefully sucked out her lungs as the walls closed in around her. In the midst of this, Max’s only thought was that of escaping her current situation.

_I can’t do an interview! Max thought, I have no idea what happened in this timeline! What if I say something stupid, or something that I shouldn’t know?_

The more Max thought about everything that could go wrong with the interview, the more anxious she became, and the more anxious she became the more she felt like she was going to throw up. While struggling to suppress her gag reflex, the brunette realized that therein lye the answer. She struggled to summon her courage before finally managing to speak.

“Uh… excuse me. I think I’m going to be sick.”

Max than stood up and darted out of the room to the tune of voices calling after her. She found herself in the central hallway at Blackwell Academy, before leaning up against a locker in an attempt to collect herself. Finding herself in the midst of a television interview had been one of the worst situations she had returned to after coming back from a photo jump, second only to the times she ended up in the darkroom. Although, this was the first occurrence in which she had been thrown so far off balance as to result in a panic attack. In all of the previous instances, the brunette had been able to adapt quickly after being able to assess whatever situation she had been placed in. Shuddering at the thought of the darkroom, Max had begun to catch her breath when the door opened behind her.

The moonlight shown into the hallway from the windows on the doors providing additional light to the dimly lit hallway, creating an atmosphere that Max found disconcerting. Everything looked the same. The blue lockers leading down the hall, which for some reason had red ones mixed in. The “Go Bigfoots!” banner hanging atop the lockers on the right side. Her gaze shifted down the hallway before stopping abruptly at the bulletin boards still plastered with missing Rachel Amber posters. Nothing had change in Blackwell since Chloe had passed from the one from the original timeline.

_Why are those posters still up? Max wondered to herself. Have they not found her yet?_

As Max considered why the police hadn’t discovered Rachel Amber’s body yet, she felt the presence of someone approaching her from behind.

“Max! Are you okay?” Ryan Caulfield asked with an obviously look of concern on his face. “What happened in there just now?”

That was a good question, Max thought, as she tried to figure that out herself. Her mind started to scramble in an effort to formulate an excuse that didn’t make her seem completely insane. Having no idea of what had transpired since Chloe was shot eliminated the option of anything too specific. Although, given Ryan’s innate ability to see through her attempts at lying, the explanation had to be close enough to reality.

“Sorry Dad, I just started to think about everything that has happened and I just started to panic.” It was basically true, as far as her father knew, so she didn’t have to lie. Max had been trying to keep her composure, but in that moment the weight of her fateful choice caught up with her, and tears began to run down her cheeks.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Ryan said as he pulled his daughter in for a hug. “Don’t bottle your emotions up, you just lost your best friend.”

Momentarily, Max felt as though nothing could hurt her as she was enveloped in her fathers’ arms. Ever since she was a little girl, her dad had always managed to find a way to make her feel safe. It had been her dad that had seen Max through her initial bout of depression after they had moved to Seattle. At first glance, one could easily confuse him for a lumberjack, as he certainly looked the part with his full beard and a fashion sense that typically included some variation of flannel. Despite his rather rugged appearance, he proved to be a loving and caring father for Max growing up.

With that said, Max couldn’t hold everything in anymore and all of her emotions began to pour out. “We just had a chance to reconnect after I left for 5 years and now she’s gone.”

Her father did his best to console her, “I know, sweetie. I can’t imagine how hard this has been on you. No one should have to lose an old friend like that.” Max just listened and cried in his arms for a couple of minutes until she started calm down. Sensing that the worst of it was over, Ryan pulled his daughter in front of him and asked;

“Do you think you’ll be up for going back to the interview or do you want me to cancel?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m up for going back in there and talk about what happened,” Max replied hoping that her Dad would go for it. She shouldn’t talk to anyone until her figured out everything that happened since going back to the bathroom. As the brunette said that, she looked around and remembered that they were standing in front of the photography class room.

_What the hell? Max thought, why would they interview me in the photography classroom?_

Immediately Max knew something was wrong, the class room should be closed off as a crime scene.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Ryan said, “you don’t have to do the interview if you don’t want to. Just sit tight and I’ll go tell the guys from channel 8 that you won’t be coming back in.”

While Max waited for her father to come back she tried her best to guess what had happened in the 5 days since Chloe had passed away. The questions poured through her mind as she considered the possibilities. Why was she being interview in the photography class room? Did that mean that Jefferson hadn’t been caught in this timeline? The brunette was frantically trying to decipher the potential implications of that when her father came back into the hall.

“Are you ready to go?” Ryan asked Max as she immediately started walking toward the door. The producers from channel 8 weren’t happy about the cancelation but he wouldn’t mention that to his daughter. She was obviously still feeling the effects of her panic attack and didn’t need to hear about the quilt trip he had just received from the producers.

The two of them walked toward the front entrance of Blackwell in an awkward silence. The exception being the sound of their footsteps, as neither was quite sure of what they should say to the other. As they proceeded down the hall Max scanned everything in sight hoping to get some indication of had happened since she had jumped forward five days. Despite her best efforts, the brunette found no indication of what she was looking for. The Vortex Club party had been rescheduled as a result of the shooting, Rachel Amber was still missing, and some poor guy was still looking for their stolen laptop. The brunette had been holding out hope that Jefferson had been arrested; that interview location had just been a poor choice, but the lack of any discernable change in the halls of Blackwell left her feeling deflated. As they walked down the front steps Max stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Jefferson’s photos still being displayed around the front of the campus.

_Well shit, Max thought too herself, what the hell am I going to do now?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second part of what was originally posted as chapter 1. I decided to split it into two chapters.

**_ Chapter 2 Friday Evening _ **

After the witnessing the panic attack, it had been a particularly hard sell, but Max managed to convince her dad into letting her spend the night in her dorm rather than the hotel he was staying at. Fortunately, the brunette had been able to avoid contact with anyone, as the last thing she wanted to do was get stopped by someone she knew. Upon entry, the walk down the main corridor of the dormitories proved to be a difficult proposition for Max, as she was constantly reminded of her numerous trips down this hall during her nightmare. Being that it was past curfew, the entire hallway was covered in darkness, with the only exception being the outside light coming through the window by the shower room.

“Okay, this is scary dark,” Max whispered aloud. “Let there be…”

Rather than fumble her way down the hall, Max used the flashlight on her phone to guide her. At about the midway point to her room, the brunette realized that she was unaware of Kate’s fate in this timeline. Deciding the research could wait, Max approached the other girl’s door and knocked after feeling a knot in her stomach. The anticipation during the wait was becoming unbearable before Kate mercifully opened the door. As she laid eyes on her friend, Max let out a more audible sigh of relief than she had intended. Having answered the door in her bunny pajama’s and a cheery disposition, Kate looked like she was doing well, which provided a moral boast Max needed more than she realized.

“Hey Kate,” were the words that came out of her mouth, but her thoughts were more attuned with; oh thank god you’re okay.

“Hey Max,” Kate responded sheepishly, “how was the interview?”

“Oh that,” Max paused not expecting Kate to ask about the interview. “I ended up canceling it; I’m just ready to talk about it like that,” she answered before quickly trying to the subject. “But I…I just wanted to see how you were doing. The shooting may have taken most of the attention away, but that doesn’t mean you’re still not going through some shit right now.”

Seeming genuinely touched, Kate smiled at Max before moving closer for a hug. After a pause Kate answered, “That’s so sweet of you Max; you’ve always been a good friend. But I’ve been a lot better since the video got taken down.”

The fact that Victoria had taken down the video of Kate at the Vortex party came as an enormous relief for Max. After determining that Kate’s state of mind had improved greatly, the conversation drifted into more casual topics. Taking solace in having a moment to just talk about normal things for a teenage girl in high school, Max didn’t realize how much she needed a break for everything she had been dealing with over the past week. Feeling reenergized after their talk, the two said their goodbyes after they had made plans to have tea together at some point soon. Her mood having significantly improved since talking to Kate, Max set off the rest of the way to her dorm room. As soon as she entered her dorm room Max turned on her laptop and unlocked her phone. The brunette had a long night ahead of her if she was going to figure out what had happened in this timeline.

“Hey, Other Max kept Lisa alive,” the brunette said with a smile, remembering how she had accidently over watered the plant in the original timeline.

Finally being back in her cocoon for the first time in days offered Max a sense of comfort that she hadn’t realized how much it was missed before entering her room. Before setting into her research, she took a quick look around her room. Her photos, guitar, and clutter, were all roughly where she expected them to be. The fact that her room appeared to be unchanged provided Max a small measure of relief, which she was grateful for, after the volatile nature of the last week.

 

 

“Son of a bitch,” Max exclaimed a little louder than she had intended as she finished reading through another article on Chloe’s murder.

The momentary boost of optimism Max had received after seeing Kate quickly dissipated shortly after beginning her research. First, the brunette decided to focus on the case against Nathan and what had happened in the immediate aftermath of the shooting. It didn’t take long for Max to realize that not every problem had been solved by her decision to sacrifice Chloe. One after the other, the majority of the coverage revolved around the Prescott’s and the supposed fall from grace for one of Blackwell’s most promising students. If the victim was mentioned beyond in passing, Chloe typically wasn’t depicted in the most flattering of lights. The focus would generally be centered on her expulsion from Blackwell and her subsequent rap sheet, rather than the spirit and character that defined her. The media’s depiction of Chloe infuriated Max, but reluctantly admitted; that from an outside perspective, it painted a convincing picture of who the blunette had been. 

As it turned out, in the immediate aftermath of the shooting, David was the first one to arrive on scene and restrained Nathan until the police had arrived. Max had hoped, or rather assumed, that once Nathan was taken into custody he would confess and implicate Mr. Jefferson as well. Unfortunately, as Max soon realized, that was not the case. From what she could gather from articles and new clips, after the shooting Nathan was indeed taken into custody for shooting Chloe Price. But the brunette was unable to find any mention of discovering Rachel’s body or the dark room.

“You have got to be freaking kidding me,” she mumbled to herself after finishing another article.

Max couldn’t believe it, after everything that she and Chloe had went through during those five days; Mark Jefferson was still a free man. Still free to traverse the halls of Blackwell with that irritatingly smug hipster persona of his, a mental image which made Max gag in the back of her throat. During her initial search online, Max had focused on news regarding Nathan or Mr. Jefferson.  After reading several articles, Max finally allowed herself to read one about Chloe;

_At approximately 4:05 pm, Chloe Price had entered the women’s bathroom at Blackwell Academy and appears to have gotten into an altercation with Mr. Prescott. Shortly thereafter, Mr. Prescott fired one round into Ms. Price’s stomach at close range. The cause of the altercation is currently unknown. Paramedics were called to the scene and she was immediately rushed to Arcadia General but doctors were unable to stop the bleeding. Miss Price was later pronounced dead at the hospital._

_The Oct 7 th shooting marks the end of a life marred by tragedy…._

“Wait, what did that say?” the brunette shouted aloud. “Was later pronounced dead? LATER!?! How long was she alive after the shooting?”

Max had always assumed that Chloe had died almost instantly. This new piece of information left her questioning the nature of her previous assumption. Especially when considering the fact that a wound of that nature wasn’t necessarily fatal. Before the advent of modern medicine, depending on the entry point, a wound of that nature could take days to be lethal. Her well of medical knowledge had run dry as that train of thought ended abruptly in favor of a sudden realization. A thought that almost made her throw up as it crossed her mind.

“Did we have a chance to talk after she was shot?”

The lack of any mention of last words in the remainder of article left Max in a panic as she searched for a way to uncover the truth. The brunette had to learn about Chloe’s final moments, even if it broke her heart. Having become frustrated over the lack of detail in some of the articles, Max was initially unsure of how to continue the search before remembering one place she hadn’t yet looked.

“My journal!” Max said aloud as she began frantically searching through the stacks of clutter.

Having finally found it buried under some clothes, the brunette turned through the entries starting last week as quickly as she could. Eventually finding it, her heart sank after noticing that the page was covered in tears, before beginning to read the entry.

_October 7 th,_

_I don’t know how I could explain what happened today and frankly I have no desire to write in here. But writing has always been a great release for me so here goes nothing…_

_Chloe died today… It happened right in front me. I’m in the bathroom trying to come down after I freaked out in class when it all happened. I get distracted by a butterfly because well ADD is a bitch, next thing I know, some guy bursts in the bathroom and starts talking to himself like a maniac. Of course, I hide in the corner, hoping everything just goes away when Chloe comes in. They start arguing about drugs and money and next thing I know I hear a gunshot._

_I stick my head out just in time to see Chloe fall to the ground. I can’t get that image out of my head. I can still see it when I close my eyes. First the shot, then the site of her body falling limp and crashing into the floor, seemingly in slow motion._

_Nathan is freaking out, screaming that he didn’t mean to do it as Chloe is alternating between screaming in agony and coughing up blood. Mr. Madsen bursts through the door and takes down Nathan and there is a moment where it was just the two of us in the bathroom._

_Chloe is staring at me with wide eyes before barely managing to squawk out, “Max?”_

_I’m crying hysterically and the only thing I manage to get out is, “I’m so sorry Chloe!”_

_As I notice she was holding my hand, Chloe just smiles and says, “I guess this is farewell.”_

_Before I had a chance to respond the paramedics burst in and pull me away from her. After that, I just fall to the floor and cry my eyes out. Everything after that is pretty much a blur._

_I abandoned her for 5 years and then I let her die. I could’ve stopped it, I could’ve saved her. But I didn’t…how am I supposed to live with something like that?_

 

After finishing the entry, Max was completely shell shocked, able to nothing but add fresh tears to the page. Slowly the brunette leans away from the page, still frozen still, as her mind tries to process the words Other Max had written. After a moment the numbness in her body begins to fade and a realization comes into focus.

“Chloe died not knowing how I felt about her,” Max thought, “without knowing how we felt about each other.”

It wasn’t until this moment that Max realized exactly what she gave up to save Arcadia Bay. The devastation wrought by this notion completely overwhelmed her. The brunette soon found herself gasping for air as the familiar sensation from her earlier panic attack returned, before eventually collapsing to the floor. The rush of despair continued to build until she finally broke down and wept hysterically for what felt like hours before finally drifting off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

** Chapter 3 **

As Max began to stir from a state of sleep, she felt an awful pinch in her neck. While in the process of adjusting her head to relieve the pain; she realized her head had been crooked awkwardly against a window. Further inspection revealed the glass to be particularly dirty, having been discolored by the presence of smoke. Looking out the window uncovered the horizon, consisting primarily of trees, passing by the window under the cover of darkness. Confused, the brunette looked around before noticing that she was careening down the highway, in a vehicle that seemed strikingly familiar.

Surveying her surroundings, a few areas of interest captured Max’s attention as she discovered more items that she was familiar with.  The brunette had become fixated on various pieces of graffiti and stickers plastered all across the dash before settling on a bobble head in the center of the dashboard. The sight of the bobble head, a singing Elvis dressed in all black holding a microphone, broke the last shred of denial she had been holding on to. Scared to look any further to her left, Max eventually had to force herself to confirm what she already knew, the person behind the wheel was none other than Chloe Price.

“Chloe…” the brunette said hesitantly trying to figure where or when she was. “Where are we headed?”

“Fuck if I know,” the blunette said sharply, “away from the storm.”

“Wha…what happened?” the brunette asked sheepishly, despite having a pretty good idea of the answer already.

“What the fuck Max?” the driver snapped before turning to face the passenger. “You tore up the photo…you let Arcadia get destroyed!”

Despite receiving the answer she expected, Chloe’s words still hit Max harder than she had anticipated. The brunette found herself in a state of disbelief over the revelation of Arcadia’s fate. So distraught over the shock, she felt a physical pain in her chest, as though someone was standing on it. As the brunette struggled to get a grip on her current situation, a barrage of questions began to course through her mind.

_How the shit did I get here, she wondered, what the hell is this? Is this just a dream or did I somehow drift into an alternate timeline?_

Having remembered a telltale sign from all of the previous times she entered an alternate timeline, Max gazed out the window looking for confirmation as to the validity of her theory. Looking to the horizon, the brunette felt panicked at what she saw, or rather what she didn’t see. When she had traveled though photos, the background had always had this distorted reddish tint reminiscent of a burned Polaroid. To the girl’s disappointment, that wasn’t the case here as the horizon was as clear and vivid as it could be given how dark it was. The noticeable lack of what was essentially an Instagram filter on the horizon, led the brunette to suspect that she was in a particularly vivid dream. However, before she had able to convince herself of that fact, Chloe had lit another cigarette after rolling the driver side window down. The sudden influx of fresh air and smoke caused her to become acutely aware of her senses. As the smell radiated throughout the trucks cabin, Max’s head recoiled back as the aroma entered her nostrils, causing the pain in her neck to reemerge. Given a second thought after noticing how heightened her senses were; the brunette reconsidered the alternate timeline option, as this experience had become more intense than any dream she’d ever witnessed.

Evidently, after the pair had left Arcadia Bay, Max had fallen asleep; exhausted after everything she had endured to that point. Having been left alone in the car with only her thoughts, Chloe had ample time to dwell on what had happened earlier on the cliff overlooking the bay, and what the ramifications would be. During this time, Chloe had begun to feel a tremendous sense of survivor’s guilt. Initially after they had reached the next town, the blunette had turned on the radio with the hope that there would be some positive news reported. Unfortunately, that news never came, and she was forced to turn the radio off after experts had begun predicting an upwards of 90% mortality rate. As a result, the further they traveled down the road, the more she had convinced herself that Max made the wrong choice.

A long silence followed after Chloe had informed Max of what exactly had happened earlier. A silence that started as uncomfortable, before eventually progressing to tense the longer it went on. Equal parts unsure of what to say and why she was here in the first place, the brunette hesitated to say anything for fear that it may set the blunette off. The entire scene felt so real to Max she began to believe that she somehow had drifted into another timeline. The truck smelled of a mix of rain water, cigarettes, and two girls needing a shower. The brunette could feel the flakes of dried tears fall from her cheeks as she tried to wipe them away. Before long, Max snuck a glance to the person in the driver seat. Chloe was visibly stewing inside, as the girl had always worn her emotions on her sleeve, it wasn’t particularly difficult to spot. Her grip on the steering wheel was so tight that her knuckles were white and she would occasionally mouth something incoherently to herself.

“Chloe…talk to me,” Max said while bracing herself for Chloe to snap at her. “Please don’t shut me out.”

“Max, how are we supposed to live with this?” she replied after taking a moment to collect herself. “How many fucking people died so we could be together? How can you justify that to yourself?”

“Chloe…I…I just couldn’t,” the brunette began to say before arriving at a loss of words.

As the two became engaged in the conversation, they both had shifted their attention to the person sitting across from them. Max found she was unable to find the words to explain herself, given that she had chosen to honor her last wish. Through circumstances the brunette could’ve never foreseen, at the other end of the cabin sat Chloe Price, her dead best friend/love of her life.  Together they sped down the highway in her truck towards an uncertain future at an unknown destination. The brunette decided she couldn’t tell her the truth that in the event she was in an alternate timeline. Max didn’t want to just drop a bomb like, “actually I did go back and let you die like you wanted,” before leaving this Max to deal with aftermath. With the silence becoming noticeable, Max was unable to find the words to defend a choice that she herself hadn’t made. As it appeared that she was stalling, Chloe was clearly losing her patience for the conversation.

“You know what Max? Forget it, take your time,” the blunette stated with venom in her eyes. “We have plenty of…”

With her eyes locked on Max, Chloe hadn’t realized that the truck had slowly started to drift into the oncoming lane. Noticing this at the same time a horn started to blare at them, the brunette desperately tried warn Chloe.

“Chloe, look out!”

Realizing what was happening in that moment, Chloe instinctively jerked the wheel to the right in an effort to evade the oncoming vehicle. While having done so successfully, the surge of adrenaline caused the blunette to use an excessive amount of force, resulting in the truck now careening toward the ditch. In an effort to steady the vehicle, she over corrected in the opposite direction, and in that instant the driver side tires began to lift off the pavement. Having lost control of the vehicle, the only thing the girls could do was brace for impact and watch helplessly as momentum took its course. After the tires left the pavement, the truck flipped over several times before eventually coming to rest upside down in the right hand ditch.

Seeing the entire event unfold seemingly in slow motion, Max had been rendered helpless, unable to do anything but watch Chloe struggle to keep the truck under control. The sudden shift from side to side left her disoriented before she eventually lost consciousness during the initial flip as her head hit the window. The last thing Max remembered was her head hitting the window followed by a white light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes- this is the start of the B plot of my story. Given that I'm 100% Pricefield, I just couldn't write an LiS fanfic without Chloe.  
> Again feedback is always welcome, I'd be interested to hear some thoughts, particularly about this chapter  
> Also thanks for reading, it you enjoyed it please hit; favorite, follow, or leave a comment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max tries to pick up the pieces and figure out what to do going forward

** Chapter 4 – Saturday the 12th early am **

“Chloe, look out!” Max shouted as she sprung awake.

Struggling to catch her breath, Max surveyed her surroundings to determine where she was. She had woken up drenched in sweat, with her head throbbing, back at her dorm room at Blackwell Academy. After glancing at her phone to determine what time it was, the brunette fell back into her bed before trying to make some sense out of what she saw.

“What…what the fuck,” the brunette panted out still struggling to catch her breath. “What was that?”

Having no discernable answers on what she saw last night, Max did her best to put it out of her mind, a task that proved to be even more difficult than she had anticipated. The brunette continued to waffle back and forth between what she considered too be the two most likely scenarios. Either she had been to an alternate timeline or it was her subconscious attempt at processing the trauma she had endured in the past week. Frankly, having thought about it, Max didn’t know which option she thought was worse. Frustrated, the brunette forced herself out of bed after it became apparent she wouldn’t be going back to sleep.

After her breakdown last night, Max was starting to put the pieces back together early the next morning. At some point, she had managed make her way to the bed, but evidently didn’t have the energy nor the desire to change into pajamas. The area around her eyes and down both checks was covered in the dry remnants of tears. Whilst haphazardly wiping her face, the brunette was grateful, that at least for the moment the well of tears had run dry. After the world came crashing down upon the realization that Chloe died never knowing how Max had felt, a shattering sense of emptiness was all that remained in its wake. Her heart had been left behind on the cliff overlooking Arcadia Bay and she couldn’t conceive of a single scenario in which she could accept the loss of the bluenette. Distraught over these thoughts, Max eventually moved on to the anger stage of the grieving process.

“What the shit,” Max said after giving up on the prospect of cleaning her face, “sacrificing Chloe was supposed to fix everything. What was the point of it all?” she asked aloud as if expecting an answer. “Why did I get the power to save Chloe, if saving her caused some freakin’ super time tornado to destroy the town?”

As these thoughts crossed her mind, Max became increasingly bitter over the situation she had been placed in. The brunette lamented over her perception that the entire ordeal had been unwarranted. The notion of receiving the power to save her best friend, only to be saddled with the task of weighting that life against those of the town proved to be a bitter pill to swallow. Sacrificing Chloe rendered the entire experience irrelevant, as that choice effectively undid the entire week. While on the other hand, sacrificing Arcadia Bay meant thousands of innocents would be condemned to death to save her best friend.

“Wait…If saving Chloe caused the storm…then why did it still hit after Jefferson shot her?” Max vented, desperately needing to put words to her frustration.

Struggling to cope with the trauma, Max searched for some justification for what she had endured. The entire existence of the tornado seemed illogical to Max, considering the first vision of its arrival had occurred prior to saving Chloe. To the brunette, it seemed as if the universe had constructed a scenario to give her an impossible choice, just for the sake of giving her an impossible choice. After all of the relationships she built, all the lives she changed, Max couldn’t accept that despite her best efforts, everything had boiled down to a single choice with equally terrible options.

“Was this supposed to teach me to let her go?” the brunette asked with a scoff. “Well I already did that when I left, so that idea can go fuck itself.”

Max threw herself a pity party, wallowing in her bitterness and despair before deciding an outlet for her grief was necessary to ward off depression. In order to get her mind off of her anger, the brunette tried to focus on what happened the rest of the week after Chloe had passed. Turning to her phone and social media pages proved futile, as nothing particularly surprising was uncovered. The contents of which, consisted primarily of messages checking if she was okay and offering condolences. There were however, some important details revealed in the rest of the entries in her journal. After the shooting, Max had been brought to the police station to recount what happened and give an official statement. As far as she could tell from the entry, everything went fine, but the experience had evidently been an unpleasant one for Other Max.

 

_October 8 th_

_So I had to give the police my statement… 0/10 would not recommend. Felt like they were blaming me for what happened, kept asking me why I didn’t do anything. Apparently they were having trouble wrapping their heads around someone being scared of a gun. Eh…they’re probably just pissed about all the paperwork they have to do._

_Officer Berry apologized for them, but still…assholes._

“Sorry Other Max…but better you than me,” the brunette mumbled after reading that section of the journal entry.

Despite some measure of guilt over her other-self having to face the police for her actions, the brunette was incredibly relieved to not be faced with the prospect of taking to the police. Never one to do well in the face of pressure, the likelihood of creating some contradiction that a competent defense attorney could exploit was high. Confident that Other Max would have given the better statement, considering how little she would have known, the brunette turned her attention back to the journal. That moment of relief however, quickly faded into dread as soon as she read further into the entry.

_I saw Joyce today for the first time since the…the incident. I could barely even look at her the whole time. How could I have just sat there while Chloe was shot?_

_Through all the tears, I tried to tell her it was all my fault, that I could’ve save her, but of course Joyce being the amazing women that she is was having none of it. She just kept saying “Honey, there was nothing you could have done. It was just her time to go.” Maybe she is right about that, but it certainly didn’t have to be her time to go._

_Joyce just kept telling me how happy she and David were that I was there with Chloe in her final moments. I appreciated what they were trying to do, but their words did little to ease my guilty conscience._

With the knowledge obtained from the journal entries, all of her earlier focus was gone and Max was back to feeling sorry for herself. As much as it shamed her to admit, the brunette was grateful her other-self had been the one to have that conversation with Joyce and David. If Other Max felt guilty about not saving Chloe, then she wasn’t sure she’d even be able to look them in the eyes knowing what her choice meant.  The prospect of facing them now seemed incredibly daunting to Max. To see the pain her choice had caused firsthand was more than she could bear at the moment.

“If I hadn’t been so consumed by my own guilt and in my own head,” the brunette scoffed, disgusted by her actions, “I would’ve stayed in contact with Chloe after I moved.”

Max shouldered the blamed for the bluenette’s entire downward spiral after William died, feeling that if she had been there, Chloe’s fate wouldn’t have been to die in the bathroom that day. In the back of her mind, she knew that Chloe was responsible for her own decisions, but the brunette wasn’t going to let anything lessen the burden of guilt. That guilt would prove valuable as a tool for motivation if she was going to accomplish what needed to be done in the coming days. Serving as a reminder of what had been lost, the burden was necessary, at least until those responsible for her death had been held accountable. After rediscovering her resolve, Max put all of her energy back into researching the new timeline. She had found an outlet to channel her grief, which hopefully would bring a measure of peace to both Chloe and herself. The brunette was going to make them all pay; Raymond Wells for enabling Nathan, Sean Prescott for ignoring his son’s mental health, and Mark Jefferson for being the catalyst behind the entire darkroom conspiracy.

Max refused to accept the cards fate had dealt her, resolving to make her own fate this time. “No fate but the one we make…,” Max mumbled, “wait what movie was from that again?”

 

 

“Well now what?” Max sighed as she closed her journal.

Max finished the remaining entries in her journal, but didn’t find anything else particularly relevant to her cause. Although she had become plagued by guilt after reading through the entries detailing how difficult it had been for Other Max to reconcile her inaction. From what the brunette could ascertain from the journal, the other version of herself had been struggling immensely over her perceived failure to act due to cowardice. From her point of view, she had taken the photo of the butterfly just before blacking out for the duration of the incident. Having not regained consciousness until after the gun shot, Other Max determined that her mind had blocked that moment from her memory as a defenses mechanism. As a result, she had placed the blame for Chloe’s death entirely on her shoulders.  

Putting her guilt aside, Max decided her attention would be better served elsewhere. Moving on, she decided it was too early to text anyone after noticing that it was only 5:30 am. Still unable to fall back asleep, the brunette decided to put together a plan of action for the day. First on the agenda was to sort out all of the details that she knew but hadn’t yet become public.

“Okay…I know where the dark room is but…how could I get the police out there?” In this timeline, Max had never broken into the bunker with Chloe, so it remained well hidden under the barn. “If I just placed an anonymous tip, would the police even find it?” Max pondered to herself before deciding that was unlikely considering the influence the Prescott’s had over the ABPD.

Next, Max considered tipping off David as she had done previously. But this possibility also had issues. In the original timeline, the hidden door was unlocked and the path to the bunker was wide open. The brunette could provide all of the necessary information to get in, but the possibility remained that David would be unwilling to break the law merely on word of an anonymous tip. The man’s questionable mental state after the death of his step daughter was another factor counting against the viability of the option. Max had witnessed firsthand in the original timeline how much David cared about Chloe after learning that Jefferson had killed her. He was so beside himself that he killed Jefferson in cold blood due to his grief. The more consideration put to this option, the chance of success become less probable in her mind. Ultimately, deciding to put the option on the back burner, the brunette shifted her focus in search of more promising options.

Eventually Max came to the conclusion that the best option would be to convince Nathan to confess everything he knew. In fact, the main reason she had expected him to turn on his mentor in the corrected timeline was due in large part to the tearful message he had left on her phone after she had escaped the darkroom. In the message Nathan apologized, claiming that he never wanted to hurt anyone before attempting to warn her about Jefferson. The final act had resulted in a small measure of redemption in the brunette’s mind, creating the hope when presented the opportunity; Nathan would attempt to atone for his actions.

Although Max considered this to be the most promising option, it still presented problems. The prospect of Nathan being receptive toward her, considering he had no recollection of the other timeline, seemed rather bleak even under the best circumstances. A point further reinforced after considering that he probably blamed Max for not stopping the shooting when she had the chance. Another obstacle in place was that in all probability the brunette wouldn’t even be able to speak with him. Max thought it was likely that his lawyers would not allow her to speak to him under any circumstance. Resigned the fact that she wouldn’t be able to see him, the brunette considered other options.

‘Victoria!” Max said aloud as she snapped her thumb and middle finger.

As far as Max knew, Victoria was Nathans only real friend at Blackwell. If anyone would be able get past the lawyers, the brunette thought that assuredly it would be her. A factor that made her the only one with a realistic chance at convincing him to confess everything he knew. Subsequently, the feasibility of this plan rested entirely on the brunette’s capability to convince the blonde to do it. Confident in her ability, the brunette had begun formulating the conversation and rehearsing lines when a realization hit.

“Ugh...are you cereal,” Max mumbled as she groaned over the notion that her task had become much more difficult. “Frickin’ time travel.”

Max had just recognized that she’d have to start all over with Victoria, as the blonde wouldn’t remember the shift in the dynamic between them. Although their relationship had thus far been icy to say the least, with the aid of her powers, Max felt they had established some commonality and had moved past their differences. In the original timeline, the brunette had used her rewind ability as part of an effort to smooth things over with her. Deciding to comfort Victoria rather than mock her when a bucket of paint had landed on her. Granted it was Max that dropped it, but Victoria was being a bitch and wouldn’t let the brunette in the dorms.

“Dog damn it,” Max complained, “and after I went through all of that effort to be nice to her.”

Despite initially thinking that Victoria was a stuck up bitch, Max eventually started to have some empathy toward her. The queen bitch persona had turned out to be a façade as underneath the brunette found an insecure girl that felt the need to put others down in order to make her feel superior. Since the day she arrived at Blackwell, the brunette had frequently been on the receiving end of Victoria's transgressions. Although, the blonde’s demeanor could be partially attributed to her parents, as she felt tremendous pressure to live up to their expectations. Surprisingly enough, toward the end of the week Max actually started to feel like they could be friends.

“Heck, apparently bizarro Max was friends with Victoria and…. possibly more than friends.”  The brunette muttered to herself as she remembered all of the texts from that timeline. She couldn’t help but laugh at the notion of dating Victoria. Max tried to shake the thoughts from her mind but she couldn’t deny that the idea intrigued her despite how remote of a possibility it seemed. 

Max looked at the clock and noticed it was now 8:45 am. Figuring that it was now late enough and that she had stalled long enough, the brunette decided it was time to knock on Victoria’s door. Having collected herself, she opened the door and stepped into the hall. After pausing to take a deep breath Max thought, “Well here goes nothing,” before summoning the will to knock on Victoria’s door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes:  
> Thanks to everyone who has read, followed, favorited or reviewed. I really appreciate it.  
> My plan going forward it to post 1 or 2 chapters a weeks depending on the length, so updates should be regular.  
> Since I am 100% Pricefield, I used Max's frustration as an outlet for my own feelings on the Bay ending. You might be wondering why I wrote a post-bay fanfic then haha. Well I came up with this idea when I was looking for a story along the lines of what I've written. Unable to find one, I obviously wrote my own. I always felt that this ending tied everything up to neatly in the end. Of course DontNod did this because they weren't planning for a sequel so they didn't want to leave any open plot points. But if they did want a sequel, I think this would be a good starting point.  
> Thanks for reading, and again all feedback is welcome.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max tries to reconnect with Victoria

** Chapter 5 Sat 12th morning **

Max stood outside Victoria’s door, tapping her foot nervously, waiting for her to answer. The brunette glanced anxiously up and down the halls for any bystanders, having suddenly begun to doubt her reasoning for being here. Finding no one insight, her attention shifted back to the closed door of room 221. Growing impatient, the brunette snuck a glance to check the contents of the white board alongside the door. Upon discovering the messages written on the board, Max had been unable to suppress a scowl.

_I’m so sorry about Nathan <3 – Dana  _

_We’re here for you V; let us know if you need anything <3 – Taylor and Courtney_

_Sorry about Nate, let me know if you need a break from all of this – Hayden_

“Forget Nathan, at least he’s still alive,” the brunette scoffed after finding no mention of Chloe.

With the scowl cemented across her face, Max’s attention was pulled away from the white board by the sound of the door creeping open. Taking notice of the expression, Victoria’s face quickly contorted to return the look after taking a moment to look the brunette up and down. At the same time, Max shifted her gaze to the blonde, before the scowl evaporated from her face after noticing the expression on the taller girls face. With large green eyes piercing through her, the brunette immediately felt a surge of regret over the decision to knock on her door. While the girls made eye contact, an awkward silence fell between them before the blonde finally spoke.

“What do you want Max?” Victoria asked with an annoyed look on her face.

In the midst of being intimidated by the blonde, all of Max’s rehearsed lines fell by the wayside. In addition to the death glare, the brunette had been caught off guard by Victoria’s less than exemplary appearance this morning. The blonde answered the door in ragged, or at least in comparison to her usual attire, pajama pants and t-shirt. Her short blonde hair had been matted down on the right side and both eyes were puffy with dark circles underneath, indicating the tears that had been shed the previous night. While still physically imposing given the height difference, the sight of Victoria looking anything less than perfect was unusual. Consequently, this resulted in the complete derailment of the track she had in mind for the conversation.

“Hey Victoria,” Max replied trying to think as fast as she could, “do you have any idea what’s going on with Nathans case?”

Victoria’s face immediately turned to a scowl, causing a sense of unease in the brunette before the blonde responded. “Why the hell would I tell you anything,” she proclaimed, “anything I’d say would just be used against him. It’s not his fucking fault you know, he needs help. Nathan has been struggling with mental illness as long as I’ve known him.”

“And that’s just supposed to excuse the fact that he just killed someone,” Max snapped back louder than she intended to.

The conversation quickly deteriorated from that point, with each girl exchanging accusations before finally ending with Victoria shouting, “Fuck you, Max,” before slamming her door shut.

“Wowsers, that didn’t go well,” Max thought as she stood in the hallway trying to figure out just how that conversation managed to go south in such a spectacularly fashion. Lost in her thoughts, it took the brunette a minute to realize that Dana and Juliet were staring in her direction from down the hall whispering to each other. Max was in the midst of desiring a second attempt at the conversation, before realizing she hadn’t tried to use her rewind since she had returned to the present. After giving consideration on whether or not her powers, the brunette eventually decided in their favor.

“Ah, what the heck…why not? I can always go back through a photo if shit hits the fan.”

Unsure if she even still had her powers, Max concentrated and held out her right hand. The familiar pressure in her head slowly built before the onset of the adverse effects on her senses. Her vision had blurred to the point reminiscent of a cinematic dream sequence while any sound had damped as though she was wear ear plugs. As time slowly began to go backwards, the brunette could hear the distorted sounds of the conversation that had just taken place. Slowly Victoria’s door opened and she peered out into the hallway with the same look of fire in her eyes. Continuing further back until Victoria’s door had closed again and the two girls down the hall were back in Dana’s room. As Max released her grip on time, the pressure in her head dissipated and her senses returned to normal. After taking a deep breath to collect her thoughts, Max knocked on the door again.

_Alright, take two, she thought in an effort to reclaim some of her lost confidence. Let’s try this again…without the scowl this time._

 

“What do you want Max?” Victoria said the same way as before.

“Hey Victoria,” Max replied trying to sound as friendly as possible this time, “I just wanted to see how you were doing after everything that happened this week.” 

“Oh,” Victoria said as her facial features noticeably soften, “thanks but I should be checking on you after everything.”

“I won’t lie,” Max said, “it’s been a rough few days.”

“Yeah…I can’t imagine what it’d be like to actually be in there when it happened,” Victoria replied sounding surprising sympathetic Max thought. As Victoria said that, they both noticed Dana and Juliet walking out of Dana’s room and staring down the hall toward them.

“Hey…do you want to talk in my dorm?” Victoria suggested, an offer which Max accepted without hesitation.

Once they got inside Victoria’s dorm Max was surprised how candid Victoria was being toward her. After the initial pleasantries, the conversation shifted toward Chloe and Nathan. Remembering how poorly the initial attempt had gone, the brunette decided to traverse the minefield that was this conversation in a manner focusing on their shared grief. They both openly discussed how they’d each been dealing with losing a friend. Albeit in a different way, Max realized that the blonde had lost a friend too. Victoria had been struggling with guilt over a perceived failure to help Nathan, much in the same way Max was in regard to Chloe. The blonde had known he was struggling, just not to the extent where he would do something like that. Now it was too late for that given what had transpired, Victoria felt powerless to do anything to help Nathan now. 

“I just can’t get over the feeling that something pushed him over the edge,” Max began after she felt they had bonded enough throughout the conversation.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Victoria admitted. “He’s always had problems but he didn’t start to become really unstable until last spring.”

“Last spring? What could’ve happened last spring?” Max wondered, while full well knowing exactly what happened at that time.

This whole charade was for Victoria’s benefit, as Max needed the girl to come to the right conclusion on her own. It had been her job to leave the trail of bread crumbs, but if she pushed to hard or was too heavy handed in her approach, the blonde could very well end up becoming suspicious of the path she was being led down. Guarding against that possibility, the brunette had decided she had done enough, and that it was up to Victoria to take the last step. Fearful over the possibility that she had pushed too hard, Max had begun considering which point in the conversation she would rewind back to.

Deciding to see how this played out, Max settled in to observe the blonde, hoping the lightbulb would soon go off. The brunette tried to anticipate what conclusion she’d come too based on her ever changing facial expression. With the expected outcome shifting back and forth on even the slightest change in the girls demeanor, Max had to do her best to suppress a smile when the realization had finally become visible on the blondes face. Her gambit having been successful, all the remained was for the words to come out of Victoria’s mouth.

“Rachel!?!” the blonde gasped as though had been obvious the whole time.

After the words had left Victoria’s mouth, a cold silence hung in the air for a moment as if they had both simultaneously lost the ability to speak. The blonde’s mind raced through the potential implications of Nathan being involved in Rachel’s disappearance, while the brunette sat caught in a moment of indecision on how best to continue the conversation. Despite having the rewind to fall back on, Max still tried to tread carefully as to not rely on it completely. She had been able to convince Victoria that something had triggered the events in the bathroom, but convincing her to push Nathan to confess anything he knew would assuredly be much more difficult.

“I think it‘s possible,” the brunette replied intentionally in a sheepish tone.

“I just have a hard time believing that he could be involved in that,” the blonde said as she mused openly. “But I have to admit…it definitely would explain a lot.”

“I don’t know…I wasn’t here yet. So you’d have a better idea than me.”

Feeling the necessary ground work had been established, at least for an initial attempt, Max decided to broach the subject of Victoria speaking to Nathan. Immediately after the brunette’s objective became apparent, the blonde’s entire demeanor changed, providing a clear indication of her reluctance to the idea. It came as a surprise to the brunette to learn that Victoria hadn’t had any communication with him since his arrest. Being scared to face him herself, the blonde had received all of her updates via his sister Kristine. As that fact became known to her, Max felt a surge of butterfly’s in her stomach while considering how lightly she would have to tread the subject in order to convince her.

“If anyone could get him to open up, it would probably be you, right?”

“I just feel like I’d be betraying him,” Victoria said clearly still hesitant about talking to Nathan despite the brunette’s best efforts. “I don’t like the thought of trying to manipulate him.”

The irony of the situation was not lost on Max, given that she had been manipulating Victoria this entire conversation. Essentially, she had to convince the blonde to do to Nathan, the same thing that she had been doing to her since they started talking. The brunette felt a little guilty in this regard but was willing to do anything to get justice for Chloe. Confident or perhaps just hopeful that Victoria would see things the same way as her if she knew what had really happened in the lead up to the bathroom, Max suppressed her feelings of guilt for the time being. Although Max had the clear advantage of possessing information that she otherwise wouldn’t have known if not for the alternate time, she still felt that Victoria’s friendship with him would make up the difference. Assessing the situation, the brunette still felt that the possibility of Nathan’s redemption was the strongest motivational factor available.

“Don’t you think he should do something to pay his debt to society?” Max complained. “We know he killed at least one…

“Hey! We don’t even know if he had anything to do with Rachel’s disappearance,” Victoria countered. “You’ve been pushing me to talk to Nathan like he killed Rachel,” Victoria continued, now in an accusatory tone. “What’s you game Caulfield?”

_Shit, Rewind! Max thought as she scolded herself for losing control of the conversation again._

Even knowing Victoria as well as she did, it was still a struggle for Max to prevent the conversation from spiraling into an argument. Anyone close to Nathan had known that he had issues, but their relationship was different. Behind all of the false bravado and bullying, theirs was relationship that had formed due to their shared difficulties in coping with tremendous expectations from their parents. So despite what the man had done, Victoria still held on to the hope that he wasn’t too far gone. If that hope was lost, the blonde would have failed him, causing an internal desperation to prevent that from coming to fruition. Therefore, the blonde was particularly abrasive toward any implication that Nathan was responsible for any additional crimes.

Victoria’s desperation was at least in part fueled by her own guilt over not having done anything to prevent the shooting. As a result, the blonde’s mind subconsciously concluded that absolving Nathan would in part absolve her as well. Consequently, that hope would be something that Victoria would cling to as long as she could, believing that her only chance to atone lie in Nathan’s redemption. Realizing this, Max had to be careful to frame her suggestions as a means of making amends rather than seemingly condemning him further. Besides that, the brunette just had to hope that her desperation wouldn’t leave her blind to reason.

“… I don’t like the thought of trying to manipulate him.” Victoria repeated.

“I just feel like this would be a chance for him to take a step toward redemption,” Max said in her most enduring tone of voice. “We don’t know if or how he had any involvement in Rachel’s disappearance,” she continued, “but if he could help solve Rachel’s disappearance I think it could go a long way towards helping him.”

“I supposed you’re right,” Victoria finally conceded. “That could go a long way towards getting him a lighter sentence, especially considering Rachel’s dad is the district attorney.”

_“Score!” Max thought while mentally giving herself a high five._

“Okay, but only if you feel comfortable talking to him,” the brunette conceded.

Max was doing her best to frame the outcome in a light that Victoria would perceive as being of her own volition. While it seemed to work, the brunette couldn’t deny the guilt that came with having become so good at manipulating people through her rewind. It had been something she had become accustomed to during the last week in the original timeline. When a conversation didn’t end in her favor, Max would rewind back and use any knowledge gained from the previous attempts to manipulate the other participants. As a result, she had been able to form friendships with basically every person that she came into contact with. While the practice proved to be advantageous, Moral Max was running out of reasons to justify manipulating people.

_Oh well, that’s a moral conundrum I’ll have to deal with later, Max thought. I’ll stop at nothing to make Mr. Jefferson and Sean Prescott pay for what they’ve done._

After convincing Victoria that this was Nathan’s best chance at redemption, Max had been able to relax after it became apparent that they were in agreement on how to move forward. The two continued to discuss the best course of action to take with Nathan, considering the fact he would almost certainly be in a fragile state of mind. Upon reaching a conclusion, they decided that Victoria would approach the conversation in manner that suggested that this was something out of character for him and that something had to trigger him to do this. It was important that Nathan saw the meeting under the pretext of understanding and the purpose of helping him. Victoria would go down to the police station in the afternoon, after which she would call Max to let her know how it went. After they had regrouped, a decision would be made in regard to whether additional action was necessitated. In the meantime, Max could do nothing but hope Victoria would be up to the task, as there would be no rewind if the conversation went off the rails.

With their path set for the day, Max prepared to leave Victoria’s room so the other girl could get ready to go see Nathan. Despite the time they had spent together, the goodbye proved to be rather awkward. Neither of them was sure in regard to whether or not a hug was warranted, so each girl just awkwardly looked at the other for a moment after they had said goodbye.

“…so I’ll text you later?” the blonde said mercifully breaking the silence.

“Okay…sounds good,” Max stammered out in response.

Desperate to hide the blush intensifying on her face and escape the situation, Max took her leave as fast as she could without making her discomfort obvious. Now safely within the confines of her room, the brunette stood with her head rested against the door, over analyzing the exchange while replaying every detail in her mind. Mentally kicking herself over the awkwardness of the moment, the brunette searched for a means of distraction from what had just taken place. Figuring that there was little else she could do until after Victoria got back, Max decided it would be a good time to catch up with some of her other classmates she hadn’t seen since altering the timeline. Unlocking her phone revealed that she had received messages from both Kate and her dad.

_That’s right; he’s going back to Seattle today, Max remembered. I should see him again before he leaves._

Noticing that it was only 11:45, Max decided she had plenty of time to see both her dad and Kate before Victoria would get back to her.

“Wait, it’s almost noon already?” Max questioned seeming a little surprised at the time. “That means I was at Victoria’s for over two hours.” It certainly hadn’t seemed that long to the brunette at the time. “Did I really enjoy Victoria’s company so much that I lost track of time?” her thoughts having become consumed at the possible implications of that.

“Chloe would kick my ass if she saw me hanging out with Victoria Chase,” she mused. Despite being saddened at the thought of Chloe, Max couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what Chloe’s reaction would be.   

As Max was about to text her dad and Kate to make plans for the afternoon, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. “Wowsers,” Max mumbled before lifting her shirt to smell herself. “Double wowsers,” Max mused before almost losing her footing. “Startin’ to smell pretty ripe there Max, should probably take a shower first,” Max thought before chuckling to herself. “I’m surprised Victoria didn’t say anything,” Max mumbled before becoming mortified at the thought that she sat so close to Victoria smelling this bad.

“Crap, it probably took all of her willpower to not plug her nose or spray me down with Fabreze the whole time I was in there.” Max thought as she shook her head and stepped into the showers.


	6. Chapter 6

** Chapter 6 - Sat 12th, Early Afternoon **

It was a particularly gloomy day in Arcadia Bay. The forecast called for overcast and an occasional shower after the morning fog receded toward the afternoon hours. Max sighed as she climbed the stairs into the bus before finding a seat. Afterward, the brunette scanned the mostly empty bus for anyone she knew. Thankful after recognizing no one, Max turned her gaze out the window while putting in her headphones. Finally settling on the song “Price” by Koethe as the bus pulled back onto the road.

 

_I swore the other day, that I’d whisk you away_

_From all of this pain, from all of this pain in you_

_I’ve seen you turn around; I’ve seen you hit the ground_

_From all of this pain, from all this inside you_

_And I don’t know how long, that things will stay this way_

_And I don’t know what’s wrong, or how to fix this place_

_I know some things can’t change, but I want you to know_

_You will never be alone_

 

_I’d give my hand to you; I’d give my life for you_

_It’s all that I knew, it’s all that I ever knew_

_As if you’d have to ask, I’d turn this world to glass_

_The least I could do, I can’t keep my eyes off of you_

 

The bus route to the Bean Hip Cafe took Max down the same streets she had taken during her desperate attempt to reach the Two Whales diner before the storm hit land. On the way, the familiar cityscape conjured up memories of the destruction she witnessed that night. The devastation wrought by the storm was extensive, even prior to making landfall. Buildings were on the verge of collapse, wreckage and debris lay everywhere, overturned vehicles lye disregarded in the street, and the remains of a beached whale lay in the center. Further adding to the premonition of Armageddon, the area along the coast had been set ablaze and continued to burn over the horizon. On route to the diner, the road had been effectively barricaded by the damage, forcing the brunette to traverse the remaining distance on foot. Loss and death was an ever imposing specter as the brunette navigated the destruction and the wave of survivors seeking shelter, demonstrating the ramifications of altering time.

The images proved to be particularly troublesome after the bus turned down Arcadia Bay Ave, the main road that ran parallel to the coastline. There, Max witnessed untold horrors that now only existed in her mind. Permanently engraved in her subconscious were the memories’ of Alyssa and Evan’s gruesome deaths, a daughter overcome with grief unwilling to accept the reality of her father’s death, and a fisherman being electrocuted after taking shelter in a devastated building. Overwhelmed by the images, Max leaned her head against the seat as tears began to drip down her check. While her eyes took in the scene as it actually was, a town stagnant due to economic decline, her thoughts repeatedly drifted back to the night of the storm.

“Please…stop…” the brunette mumbled to herself whilst blinking in an attempt to bring an end to the images.

The vividness of the memory triggered a panic attack, eventually forcing Max to turn her attention away from the window. While each image had gradually contributed to the attack, the onset had been triggered by the memory of the explosion at the diner. As her breathing intensified, the brunette felt as though she couldn’t get enough oxygen, as if being in the bus itself had become suffocating. Now struggling to withstand the intensity of the symptoms, Max had leant her head against the back of the seat and was clutching as her chest in a vain attempt at controlling her breathing. Unable to get the image of the devastated Arcadia Bay out of her mind, she closed her eyes, and tried to visualize a positive thought. Her mind shifted through positive memories like a ViewMaster, eventually settling on the blonde girl across the hall. Each time Max remembered Victoria’s perfect smile or the feel of her touch, the sensation of butterfly’s in the stomach surged while the symptoms were slightly mitigated. Suddenly the bus came to an abrupt halt, pulling her back into the present. Looking around, the brunette realized that the bus had arrived at her stop. Feeling rushed, she had to quickly collect herself to get off the bus before it returned to the road.

 

Max stood outside the Bean Hip Café patiently waiting for Kate Marsh to arrive. Or rather, she was trying to wait patiently. It wasn’t until after checking her phone for the third to confirm that Kate was indeed over ten minutes late that Max noticed that she had been tapping her foot. Distracted the sound of approaching traffic, the brunette looked up with a heightened level of anticipation before discovering that the she hadn’t yet arrived, much to her frustration. While letting out an exasperated sigh, she felt a drop of rain hit the top of her head.

“Are you cereal?” Max complained while touching the top of her head as if to confirm that it was in fact a rain drop that had hit her. “Kate…where the heck are you?”

After enduring treatment for mild body odor, Max had made plans to occupy her time while she waited for word from Victoria. First, she was meeting Kate for what had become their ritual since starting at Blackwell, a cup of tea at the Bean Hip Café. After which she would be meeting her dad for a late lunch before he had to leave for Seattle. The brunette had been unable to resist the urge to check on her friend last night, but they had only spoken for a moment. This would be the first time that the two would be in contact for an extended period of time since the timeline had been altered. Therefore, she was anxious to see how this Kate would be dealing with the trauma endured at the Vortex Party. Kate had appeared to be doing well when Max stopped by last night, but given the time that had passed, it was conceivable the she had become adept at masking her feelings. After getting together for tea, the brunette felt she should have a better idea of how Kate war really doing.

Max was about to check her phone for a fourth time before Mr. Marsh’s car pulled up to the curb and Kate emerge from the passenger door. The brunette waved as soon as she saw her, perhaps a little too zealously with the benefit of hindsight, as Max felt a twitch of embarrassment over the notion of appearing over eager. Kate’s arrival had been accompanied by her old perky demeanor, much to relief of Max, rather than the depressed version from the previous timeline. Still dressed as conservative as ever; she arrived in a white blouse, with a grey skirt, and navy blue sweater.  Kate always seemed to have an optimistic outlook towards life, before what had happened to her at the Vortex party. The sight of her cheerful demeanor brought a smile to Max’s face as the girl approached.

“Hi Max, sorry I’m late,” Kate said apologetically as she waved back, “my mom wouldn’t stop bitc…er…complaining long enough for me to get away.”

“That’s alright,” said Max suddenly feeling a tinge of guilt at her impatience, “I’m just glad you could make it.”

Despite a current student murdering a former student in the women’s bathroom in Blackwell, Mrs. Marsh hadn’t seen reason to lighten up on chastising her poor daughter. As the entire Marsh family was particularly devout in regards to religion, the video posted online from the Vortex Party, had put her on the receiving end of significant flak from her family. From what Max could remember from the original timeline, her mom was pretty intent on playing the J card to shame Kate over what had happened. The brunette had to be careful in regard to comments on the family issues though, since the two of them hadn’t discussed the fallout from the video on the family side in this timeline. From what Max could tell from her journal however, things on the home front hadn’t change significantly for Kate from the original timeline. If there was one good thing to come out of the tragedy, Max hoped it was that it gave Kate a new perspective and help her realize her life wasn’t over because of the video.

 “So what are you going to get?” Kate asked as they stepped inside.

“I was thinking my usual, a cup of Ginger and Asian Pear Kombucha tea,” Max replied.

“Jeez, you’re such a hipster,” Kate teased playfully.

“Hey…it’s an acquired taste,” Max replied suddenly feeling the need to defend her favorite drink, “besides it has a ton of health benefits.”

“Right… just like pomegranate juice,” Kate responded while shaking her head.

“And I’m not that big of a hipster,” Max protested choosing to ignore the comparison to pomegranate juice, “it’s not like I’m fermenting my own tea.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Kate replied with an exaggerated tone of voice, “otherwise I think I’d have to stage an intervention.”

After they had received their drinks and sat down at their usual table, the conversation as well as Max could’ve hope for. The discussion occasionally ventured into difficult areas, but both were able to comfort the other when they had begun to struggle. Max had been incredibly relieved to hear that after the shooting, Kate hadn’t been further subjected bullying. It made her feel selfish, but the brunette was grateful that her friend had been spared a measure of grief. The brunette had subconsciously begun to cling to that fact as a measure of consolation for the loss of Chloe. As it turned out, after the shooting, Victoria and her lackey’s backed off and stopped tormenting her. Serving as the cherry on top of the whole sundae, the blonde had even taken down the video and deleted it from her phone.

“She just said that after what happened with Nathan she realized how awful it had been of her to post the video.” Kate continued seemingly genuinely surprised that Victoria had approached her.

“That’s awesome Kate,” Max replied suddenly feeling proud of Victoria for doing the right thing. “Hopefully the worst of this is past and you can eventually put it behind you.”

_I guess someone getting shot by the most popular guy in school will make anything else old news, Max thought bitterly to herself before she quickly tried to push those thoughts from her mind as she didn’t want them to affect her time with Kate._

At some point during their conversation, Max’s mind had drifted away from person sitting across the table. With the conversation in the midst of a lull, the brunette’s attention had been diverted to a piece on display in the back of the café. Something inherently familiar, but yet difficult to place when she had come across the particular object. Eventually, the brunette recognized it as an item uncovered during a search of Victoria’s room in the other timeline. The object in question was an old flyer for a photo exhibition from 2009 that had taken place in the café. The exhibition had been a showcase for the man currently located at the top of Max Caulfield’s shit list, the internationally known photographer himself, Mark Jefferson.

The flyer hung on the wall, signed by the man himself, as homage to the famous photographer who had been from Arcadia Bay. The sight of the flyer manifested itself in the brunette’s mind as a reminder of the esteem in which he was held in the community, and subsequently, how reluctant that community would be to acknowledge his crimes. As a result, the brunette knew that nothing sort of hard evidence would suffice, as anything circumstantial could possibly end with him being acquitted. At that moment, standing at the bottom, the seemingly insurmountable task ahead cast a large shadow. With the any luck, Max hoped that Victoria would bring word that they had taken the first steps up the mountain that stood before them.  

Pushing her thoughts away from Jefferson for the moment, Max returned her attention to the table. At the other end the brunette saw a very concerned Kate staring back at her.

“Are…are you okay Max? You just blanked out for a minute.”

“Yeah…yeah, sorry about that,” she stammered in reply. “I’m okay, something…something just caught my attention.”

Returning to the conversation, Max had been able to tell Kate that she was doing better without it being a complete lie. Despite feeling lost without Chloe, having an outlet to focus her energy on provided an effective means of coping with her grief. For a moment, the brunette was almost glad the Nathan hadn’t turned Mr. Jefferson in. The thought conjured feelings of shame, but if he wasn’t still free, Max would’ve been left with no other option but to endure the grief alone. Fear over the possibility of shutting herself off from the world, both emotional and physically, was prominent in her mind as the brunette considered a timeline where Jefferson had been caught. Max shuddered at the thought of being confronted with this grief with no positive outlet.

“It’s been hard, I won’t lie,” Max replied convincing herself she wasn’t exactly lying, just omitting certain details. “It helps that Nathan was caught right there and is facing charges.” Having decided not share the full extent of the situation, Max offered what she considered to be the most reasonable explanation for her doing better.

“Sure, I bet,” Kate responded in her most consoling tone. “If you need anything just ask,” Kate continued flashing her biggest smile, “I want you know I’m here for you.”

The sight of Kate’s angelic smile alone was enough to make Max feel better or at least for the time being.


	7. Chapter 7

**_ Chapter 7 _ **

“How’s my little girl?” Ryan Caulfield asked as he pulled back after a hug with his daughter.

“Much better than I was yesterday,” Max replied knowing exactly what her dad was referring to. “I don’t know what came over me yesterday during the interview.”

“Aw, that’s good to hear,” Ryan responded, unable to hide the concern on his face despite his best efforts.

After spending a little more time at the Bean Hip Café, the two parted company when Max had to meet her dad for lunch. The brunette tried to stay focused on the conversation, but frequently found her mind drifting to thoughts on what Victoria was doing. Her best guess suggested that the blonde should be arriving at the police station shortly if she hadn’t yet reached the destination. Max’s thoughts had become preoccupied with questions of Nathan’s reaction and the plans likelihood of success. When dealing with someone as unstable as him, the entire course of the conversation could be undermined completely by an errant condescending tone or undermining choice of words. That uncertainty put the brunette’s plan in a precarious position, as it relied more heavily than she would’ve preferred on Victoria’s ability mitigate Nathan’s psychosis. The more time that had passed since they spoke, the more anxious she was becoming.

Ryan, sensed that Max was distracted throughout the conversation, though remained unware of the extent of the pressure his daughter felt. Consequently, he decided that this would be a good time to broach the topic, unbeknownst to his daughter, which he had been building to the entire conversation.

“Hey, Max...,” Ryan paused unsure of how exactly to phrase what he going to say. “I’ve been thinking that…well maybe it would be a good idea for you to come home. After everything that’s happened…I think a change of scenery would be good for you.”

Abruptly, the thoughts of Victoria’s mission to the police station had been forgotten as Max was sharply pulled back to the conversation. The possibility that her father would consider something like this had occurred to her, but the suggestion still caught her off guard. She couldn’t leave now, not with everything still unresolved with Mr. Jefferson and Sean Prescott. If the brunette wanted to get justice for Chloe, she had to stay in Arcadia Bay, at least until the matter had been settled. But Max couldn’t just tell her dad that, because as far as he knew everything was resolved. In his mind, Nathan being held in police custody meant there was nothing left for her to do but start the grieving process. Therefore, staying in Arcadia Bay, and at Blackwell in particular, would only make it that much more difficult for his daughter to move past the tragedy. Having been caught off guard, the brunette would have to think fast to come up with a reason to stay that her dad would find believable.

“What?” Max responded unable to hide her surprise at her dad’s suggestion. “I came to Blackwell to study photography with Mr. Jefferson. I can’t leave now.”

The prospect of using Mr. Jefferson as a reason to stay in Arcadia Bay made her skin crawl, but never the less, Max used that excuse. Although, in the back of her mind, the brunette had to concede that on some level, her father was probably right. The prospect of being close in proximity of the sight where Chloe had been murdered was daunting to say the least. Having to walk past, much less make use the facilities, would almost assuredly stir up a plethora of bad memories. So Ryan’s thought process made a lot of sense as remaining in Arcadia Bay would essentially be akin to constantly picking at a scab. As a result, in accordance with the scab metaphor, the only way for a wound to heal, is to leave the scab alone, or as it pertained to Arcadia Bay and Blackwell, leave it behind.

“Staying at Blackwell is still the best chance I have to get into a good photography college,” Max continued trying to hide the panic in her voice.

“I just think coming home would help you move on,” Ryan sighed, clearly undeterred despite the passion in his daughter’s protest. “There are other photography programs or maybe you could come back next year once things have calmed down?” Ryan continued hoping that Max would hear his plea. “Your mom and I have talked and we both think this would be the best decision right now to help you move past this.”

“Get past this!?!” Max countered. “I’ll never be able to get past this. Chloe was my best friend and I abandoned her!”

Ryan just sat there for a moment, clearly taken aback by his daughter’s outburst.

“Max you’re clearly not handling this as well as you put on…”

_Crap, Max thought as she admonished herself, time for another rewind._

Max held up her right hand and concentrated before the timeline slowly reversed itself back to the last thing her dad said. She watched as her father’s eyes returned to their normal size after leaning forward to his original position and returning one elbow to rest on the edge of the table. Her emotions had gotten the better of her and she had overreacted, but the prospect of being taken away from Arcadia Bay now was something the brunette couldn’t let happen. Not while there were still matters left to attend to.

“…the best decision right now to help you move past this.” Ryan repeated his words from earlier.

“I made a commitment to come here dad,” Max replied much more collected than last time. “When we moved away five years ago, I ran away and hid from my pain and guilt for leaving Chloe hoping that it would eventually fade. I thought it did, but looking back I don’t think so. I don’t want to do that again.”

Ryan made an audible sigh as his stance on the issue seemed to soften for the first time.

They continued to talk for a while and Max had finally convinced her dad to let her stay at Blackwell, at least for the rest of the semester. She agreed to revisit the idea again if she was still struggling at the end of the current semester. Her willingness to make that concession seemed to be the convincing factor that Ryan had needed before agreeing to Max staying at Blackwell. As their conversation transitioned to lighter topics, Max felt her phone go off.

“I know I said this last year…but I think the Seahawks are gonna win it this year.”

“They do look good this year…but dad, do you think they could stop a QB like Manning or Brady in the playoffs? They’ve faced one good QB so far, and they gave up a lead to Luck last week.”

“Sure, but that…”

**BZZZZ….BZZZZ**

“Do you need to take that?” Ryan asked hoping that his daughter wouldn’t take the call.

Having glanced at her phone to reveal it was Victoria, Max could feel her face light up at the sight of her name. The brunette wanted to answer, but it was apparent Ryan didn’t want her to take the call. Reluctantly, she silenced her phone having decided Victoria could wait since her dad would be leaving soon to return to Seattle.

“That’s okay, I’ll call her back,” Max replied before smiling at the noticeable look of relief on her dads face.

They went back to their conversation before being interrupted by another call from Victoria a few minutes later.

“Anyway…they were on the road last week. They won’t have to…”

**BZZZZ…BZZZZ**

“It must be important,” Ryan said unable to hide his annoyance at the intrusion.

“I’m sorry, I told her I was having lunch with you before you left town.” Max replied apologetically before silencing the call again.

As they tried to transition back into their conversation again, Max’s phone went off again. This time it was a text message from Victoria. The brunette could sense her dads increasing annoyance as she glanced down at her phone to check the contents of the message.

**Victoria:** Answer your fucking phone Caulfield!!!

_Shit, Max thought as she felt the upset stomach feeling that came from stress, something bad must’ve happened._

“She seems really upset,” Max began to explain to her dad as her phone received another call from Victoria. Finally relenting to Victoria’s constant calls Max started to say, “Sorry dad, I better take this.”

“Hey Victoria, what’s up?” Max answered trying to hide her annoyance at the perceived staggeringly high level of impatience possessed by the blonde. However, that annoyance quickly evaporated as soon as the other girl spoke. The blonde’s voice was muffled and coarse as if she were holding the bottom end of the phone to close to her mouth. The sound of heavy breaths bled through the phone and into Max’s ear as she fervently waited for the other girl to regain her composure. Eventually, Victoria managed to catch her breath long enough to get out the words that had resulted in the desperate attempt to reach the brunette.

“Max! Oh thank god!” Victoria exasperated clearly distraught and crying. “Max, Nathan… he…”

“Hey Victoria,” Max interjected now increasingly concerned over what could’ve happened at the police station. “Take a deep breath, tell me what happened.” With her mind racing, Max considered the possibility that Nathan had confessed to killing Rachel before concluding that was the most likely scenario that could have Victoria this shaken. As the brunette shifted her thoughts to other possibilities, a quiet voice broke through the silence from the other side of the call.

“Max, Nathan…,” an audible gulp could be heard on the other end of the phone, seemingly necessary to prevent herself from throwing up, “he killed himself last night.”

Max’s eyes went wide in disbelief, completely stunned by the revelation, before her phone slipped right out of her hand and dropped to the floor. 

 

“Sweetie, what happened?” Ryan asked after his daughter got off the phone, his demeanor having change completely since before the call.

“Dad…,” Max paused unsure if she could even get the words out. “Nathan Prescott…he was found dead in his cell this morning.” In the midst of her flailing attempt to find the right words, the brunette scrambled to hide her embarrassment as from dropping her phone at the news.

During the short phone conversation, Ryan’s mood changed from mild annoyance to grave concern. He could see the color drain from Max’s face as her expression shifted from concern to one of abject dismay after receiving the news of Nathan’s death. After the initial shook subsided, they discussed the implications his death. Realizing that the case would be dismissed, a civil trial against the Prescott’s and Blackwell was likely to follow in its wake. Later in the conversation, the sense of disbelief over the news had been replaced with anger over the fact that he was left unattended in his cell long enough to commit suicide.

“Somebody screwed up…” Ryan muttered as his anger had subsided into resignation.

“How could this have happened?” the brunette replied, while concurring with her father.

After the two of them had sufficiently vented their frustrations, they each finished their lunch; with the dynamic having shifted to one of somber silence. Ryan initially considered extending his stay in Arcadia Bay, but decided to still leave that day after Max convinced him she was doing okay. In addition, he had to return to work on Monday and there wasn’t much to be accomplished by staying. Having finished their lunch, Ryan paid the tab while Max sent a text to Victoria to let her know that she was on her way. After a predominantly silent car ride, he dropped his daughter off at Blackwell, and began the return trip to Seattle after they said their goodbyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Seahawks won the Superbowl that year so I decided the write that into the story.


	8. Chapter 8

** Chapter 8 Sat 12th 3ish **

Prior to ending their conversation, Max agreed to meet Victoria at the Blackwell dorms. The brunette was still in a state of shock, struggling conceive of a contingency plan to bring the crimes of Mr. Jefferson and Sean Prescott to light now that assistance form Nathan was no longer an option. Previously, the brunette had determined that getting him to confess was the most feasible option and subconsciously had pinned all of her hopes on that plan working. Now with Nathan gone, she had been forced to return to square one, along with the other previously considered options that weren’t particularly promising. Max couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger accompany her thoughts. Subliminally, she hated Nathan for killing Chloe and then taking the coward’s way out but the brunette still felt a certain level of sympathy for him. During the week with Chloe, Max had uncovered substantial evidence indicating that Nathan had struggled with mental issues for years. In the years prior to the incident, doctors attempted to convey the seriousness of Nathans issues on numerous occasions, only to be rebuffed by his father at every turn. For that reason, in her mind the father was just as responsible for Chloe’s death as Nathan was. Sean Prescott had no grasp on the severity of mental illness; to him it was a weakness to be overcome, and that ignorance resulted in at least three deaths.

As Max walked down the hall toward Victoria’s dorm, consideration was given to the nature of the mental state the blonde would be in. Given the devastation underlying her tone of, the brunette anticipated the need to tread lightly to provide any semblance of comfort. The wait proved to be minimal for as soon as she knocked on her door, it swung open to reveal a distraught Victoria. After a moment of eye contact, the blonde leapt forward with arms open to pull Max in for an embrace.

“Max,” Victoria eventually managed to gasp, “he’s gone.” As soon as the words escaped, the girl’s cheeks received a fresh coat of tears.

“I can’t believe this,” Max replied reflecting her genuine disbelief that the series of events that led to this. “How could this have happened?”

After Max had finished her question, it became apparent that several people including Dana, Juliet, and Brooke were staring at them with a flabbergasted look on their faces. Annoyance in regard to their stares contorted the brunette’s face, but the display put forth by the pair proved to be quite the spectacle, considering the tenuous nature of the dynamic that had existed previously between them.

Before Victoria could respond, Max interjected, “Hey, do you want to take this into your room?”

“Right…sure,” Victoria replied after glancing down the hall, her face becoming contorted in the same look of annoyance as the brunette at the sight. “Fucking gawkers… look like they just saw a train wreck.”

After settling inside Victoria’s dorm, Max was quickly brought up to speed with any details that had been uncovered at the police station. Upon entry, the brunette noticed that the atmosphere of the room had taken a significant turn with the news of Nathans passing. No longer was the room filled with sunlight as the curtains had been closed, casting an ominous shadow in its stead, as if to close it off from the outside world. This shift coincided with the change in the occupant’s state of mind since having received the news. When they departed, Victoria was feeling positive, that Nathan could possibly have a chance at redemption. The aforementioned optimism had been replaced with despair at the fact her friend was gone, and that once again, had failed to be there for him in a time of need.

There were tears and anger to be had on both sides, but each girl had been able to take comfort from the other. Nathan had been found dead in his cell around 5:30 this morning. At this point, the police were trying to keep the news from leaking as long as possible in order to buy time for the inevitable shit storm that was sure to follow. Evidently, Nathan had used the bed sheets to fashion a makeshift noose, which he subsequently used to hang himself from a support beam in his cell. Someone would likely have to fall on the sword as a scapegoat, in order for the police department to survive the scandal publicly. Whilst describing the scene, the words complete chaos had been used by Victoria to describe the atmosphere permeating at the police station.

“It was a complete shit show when I was down there,” Victoria confirmed. “Nobody had any idea how a mistake like this could’ve happened. I wouldn’t have been able to find out anything if I didn’t run into Kristine when I was down there.”

The scene at the police station was reminiscent of one pulled directly from a television cop drama. The overall dynamic in the station easily fit the description of pandemonium. Officers and the prosecution were barking insults back and forth at one in other, each insinuating the others incompetence. Sean Prescott appeared to be giving the chief of police a vigorous tongue lashing behind the closed door of his office. All the while Kristine and her mother, seemingly disconnected from the hysterics around them, sat isolated on a bench crying over the news of Nathans passing.

“If this was a mistake,” Max said unable to hide her frustration, “then it’s a pretty fucking big if at this point.”

“If it was a mistake…what do you mean?”

“I don’t know Vic; something just doesn’t feel right about this. They had to have known that Nathan was on meds or at least should be meds. How could he not be on 24-hour suicide watch?”

“You’re right,” Victoria concurred. “Something about this just feels wrong. Kristine said that ever since Nathan had been arrested; huddled in the corner of his cell, he just kept repeating the same thing over and over. “It’s not my fault,” and, “I didn’t mean to it,” was all that they could get out of him. It was like he completely lost his shit…like something in his mind just snapped.”

“If you wanted this whole thing to go away, Nathans death would certainly solve that.” Max suggested unsure if this implication was to forward or if Victoria would follow down the same line of thought. If the blonde thought Max was trying to manipulate her by placing thoughts in her head, she would be forced to rewind in order to try a different approach. Fortunately, that wasn’t necessary as Victoria had developed a level of trust in Max after the rapport that formed between them as they bonded this morning.

“Who?” Victoria asked before she contemplated who would benefit from the whole situation just disappearing. After giving a moment of consideration to her own question, the blonde’s eyes went wide in shock. “You don’t mean…” Victoria paused still unsure of the answer, “his dad, do you?”

Victoria had witnessed Sean Prescott’s cold demeanor on numerous occasions over the years, but the notion of the man having a hand in his own son’s death seemed unfathomable in comparison. To the residents of Arcadia Bay, it was no secret that the most important thing to the Prescott’s had always been the family name and legacy, but to go to the extent of sacrificing a family member to protect that legacy, seemed extreme even for a Prescott. Considering the information available at the time, the blonde’s skepticism was understandable given that she didn’t have all the same information that Max did. For the brunette however, the notion was entirely within the realm of possibility, having a clear recollection of the letters Sean had written to his son, essentially telling him to get his shit together or he was cut off.

Max merely shrugged her shoulders at Victoria’s question before replying, “I’m not suggesting he killed his own son, but I think he may have had something to do with it though…whether by taking him off the watch list or somehow putting the idea in his head.” Before continuing, the brunette sighed in resignation, “I just think it fits, that’s all. I mean what’s the other option? ABPD is completely incompetent?”

“Wow, I just…maybe you’re right,” Victoria responded still in disbelief. “How could someone do that to their own child? I guess it could make sense though; Nathan always said his dad valued the family name over everything else. Hell…he’s such a controlling asshole, that Kristine ran off to join the Peace Corps.”

“The more we talk about this,” Max said conclusively, “the more convinced I am the there is some secret Prescott would stop at nothing to keep from getting out.”

“Maybe your right,” Victoria admitted finally seemingly convinced that Max was on to something. “But what could we do about it?”

“That’s the million dollar question,” Max conceded. “Even if we could prove it, would anybody even listen? I mean this is some serious shit we’re talking about here.”

As they talked, Max was continuously caught off guard by how affectionate Victoria was being with her. Over the course of the day, the two seemed to develop a certain connection, but Max wasn’t sure if she was just reading into things. The brunette’s mind would start to race every time Victoria touched her and soon found herself attempting to return the favor unwittingly, albeit in the awkward and clumsy nature that had become her trademark. Unable to maintain focus on the task at hand, Max became flooded with emotions while contemplating the meaning behind this particularly confusing set of circumstances. Were they just finding comfort in one and other as they worked their way through grief or were they each developing feelings for the other? Max couldn’t help but feel guilty at the prospect of the latter. From the brunette’s perspective, it hadn’t been more than two days since she kissed Chloe goodbye at the lighthouse before swearing to never forget about the blunette.

Max stayed in Victoria’s dorm as the two talked well into the late evening. The two considered what options were available in regard to uncovering the underlying cause that been the catalyst of the tragedy that day. Although Max felt like the two were on the same page, she continued to be careful what she said and more importantly didn’t say to the blonde. It was as though she already had all of the answers to a cross word puzzle, the brunette just had to come up with the right clues to help Victoria catch up with her and find the proof they needed. At this point, it seemed reasonable that any attempt at sharing everything would merely raise suspicion or turn Victoria against her, necessitating a rewind. Max simply couldn’t risk that, as Victoria was needed more than she cared to admit and couldn’t face the prospect of being alone on this. The two finally decided to call it a night after they both admitted to being exhausted after everything they had endured that day. After they hugged each other goodbye, they resolved to talk again tomorrow.

“Goodnight, Max,” the blonde croaked out through a yawn.

“Night, V,” the brunette responded before suddenly feeling awkward over the exchange. Desiring an escape, the brunette flashed a bashful smile before reaching the exit. Crossing the hallway to her room felt as though it was a significantly longer journey than the short steps it actually was. With each step she took, her mind became further focused on the girl she left in the room behind her. As Max closed the door to her dorm, she felt her insides pulse at the thought of Victoria’s embrace and she couldn’t help but wonder if the blonde was feeling the same thing.

“Ahhh!” Max screamed quietly at her frustration, “This is not the time for this kind of shit,” Max said, scolding herself. Searching for her resolve, the brunette would attempt to set aside these thoughts for now, as they would only serve as a distraction from her ultimate goal. Max did her best to push the thoughts of Victoria’s embrace or the scent of her perfume from her mind as she went to bed for the night. However, the brunette ended up being rather unsuccessful in that endeavor as the night went by.


	9. Chapter 9

Darkness awaited Max’s return to consciousness and was accompanied by a sharp pain pulsating through her midsection.  Instinctively, the brunette’s mind sent signals to her extremities to clutch her stomach in effort to subdue the pain.  Unable to move, the reality of the situation became apparent in regard to the void that she found herself in. In addition to blindness, the brunette had been rendered immobile, having apparently lost all motor functions. The prospect of merely opening her eyes proved to be a struggle, as though there were some force preventing them from doing so. The only calming presence was that of subdued voices, just below the level of audibility.

Unable to be roused from the state of slumber, the brunette focused on the indistinguishable voices in attempt to find passage through the dark. With every breath, a sharp pain spiked in her chest, and a subdued level of discomfort permeated throughout her as the voices became clear. Eventually breaking through the shroud of darkness, the brunette managed to open her eyes, only to be blinded by bright florescent light. The image of two figures standing at the edge of the bed slowly came into focus as her vision had begun to adapt to the change in light. Squinting in order to reduce exposure to the brightness of the room, Max recognized the two figures as her parents; Ryan and Vanessa. From their disheveled appearance, there existed indications that the two of them had been crying. Quickly taking notice when their daughter started to stir, an intense wave of relief crossed both of their faces.

“Oh, thank god you’re okay,” Vanessa Caulfield cried out while rushing to the bedside, before having to visibly restrain herself from hugging her daughter for fear of crushing the brunette.

Why wouldn’t I be okay? Max wondered to herself as she glanced over at her father as he approached to offer a comforting clasp of her hand.

Feeling tremendously confused by the situation enfolding around her, Max surveyed the surrounding area in search of additional information. A moment later, the brunette recognized the surroundings as a hospital room as opposed to the dormitories at Blackwell Academy. The relatively dirty room had been painted in an off-putting light blue and had been decorated with a painting of a nondescript lighthouse. Other accommodations included; an old television set, which base on its condition, appeared to have been a product of the previous century. In a cruel twist of fate, the television had been turned to a local news station reporting on the devastation inflicted on the small coastal town of Arcadia Bay.

Witnessing the damage on screen caused an onset of confusion in the brunette as her brain proved unable to process the images. Discombobulated, Max felt a disconnect between herself and the outside world, akin to that of an out of body experience. The devastation depicted in the aerial shots conjured a familiar sense of anxiety in the brunette. The reason for which she was unable to place, as the destruction felt familiar, but yet foreign simultaneously. The strain becoming more than she could endure, the brunette forcefully closed her eyes as her heartrate became elevated in an attempt to block out the scene before her. Ultimately proving futile, panic began to set in as the brunette quickly checked herself before wincing at the touch to the right side of her head.

What the hell happened? Max thought through her panic. It hurts to breath; I have a bump on the side of my head like in those old roadrunner cartoons, and my whole body is in pain. I feel like I just been through a…car accident.

Confusion had given way to resignation, as the last puzzle piece had fallen into place with occurrence of the aforementioned epiphany. While it hadn’t been her specifically, as the victim of accident had been Other Max, the brunette was now enduring the after effects first hand. With evidence seemingly mounting in favor of the possibility of an alternate timeline, skepticism toward that notion was no longer a plausible, as the presence of pain made this experience feel far more real than any dream. While tracing the outline of her head wound, wincing each time a finger passed a particularly sensitive area, the brunette’s mind raced through the potential implications. Fear of the unknown rendered the brunette teetering on the verge of hysterics. As tears begun to form in the crease of her eyes, Max allowed the consideration of the possibility of losing control of the ability to rewind. Unable to mask her feelings, the display became apparent to anyone with eyes. Noticing the shift in demeanor, Vanessa tried to calm her daughter down, while Ryan ran to find a nurse. The brunette had hoped the incident from the previous night was merely that of a dream but experiencing this for the second time in as many nights cast those hopes in significant doubt. Shortly thereafter, Ryan returned with a nurse that would flash a light in the brunette’s eyes to check for neurological symptoms in her pupils.

“Chloe…Where’s Chloe?” the brunette eventually managed to ask after the nurse had been satisfied by the reaction of her pupils.

“She’s…she’s still sedated,” Vanessa responded before pausing much to the chagrin of her daughter. “She’s pretty banged up, but they think she’s going to be okay.”

“Oh, thank god,” the brunette said before collapsing back into the bed. Overcome with relief from the news of Chloe’s survival, no mind was paid to the conversation the nurse had with her parents prior to leaving.

As it turned out, the paramedics were able to arrive relatively quickly after the accident before transporting them to the nearest hospital. The rollover had been rough, but both girls were fortunate to survive with relatively minor injuries. Max had made it through with a mild concussion, a couple of bruised rips and a lot of cuts and bruises. Chloe had fared slightly worse than the brunette as the driver side of the vehicle absorbed the brunt of the impact from the initial rollover. The extent of her injuries was a concussion, a fractured wrist, and a dislocated shoulder, along with the typical cuts and bruises. The fractured wrist had been the result of the blunette’s futile attempt to brace for the impact, while the dislocated should had been inflicted during the initial rollover. There had been concern over the effects of head trauma for Chloe, but the doctors where confident the blunette would recover from any damage. The fact that she was being weaned off the sedative more slowly was merely a precaution deemed necessary by the medical staff.

With the departure of the nurse, an awkward silence had overtaken the room, as the prospect of eye contact appeared to be out of the question for all parties involved. The Caulfield’s each clasped one of their daughter’s hands, grateful to be together, but seemingly unable to find the words to express that fact. Eventually hearing the background noise of the television, Max decided to seize the opportunity to break the silence.

“So…any word out of Arcadia Bay yet?” Max asked her parents sheepishly.

“Very little,” Ryan responded while despondent, “The news has mostly just been speculation on how the tornado basically appeared out of nowhere.”

“We were so worried after we heard the news,” Vanessa interjected before beginning to cry, “we couldn’t get ahold of you and…and when the hospital called we thought that…that we had lost you.”

The Caulfield family continued to talk for quiet sometime after that, eventually formulating a plan for when the girls were released. Max was being held for the rest of the night as a formality and if Chloe woke up by morning, then she would also likely be released as well. The brunette tried to focus on the conversation with her parents, but was unable to prevent her thoughts from continuously drifting back to the unknown circumstances she found herself in. The precarious nature of the situation had begun to serve as a weight on the brunette’s shoulders. Predominantly, her faculties were directed toward deciphering between two options; these visions were a product of her subconscious being unable to cope with the loss of Chloe or drifting into alternate timelines in her sleep had been added to her repertoire. Regardless of the reality, Max decided to think of this as real as in the event that it was, Other Max wouldn’t be forced to clean up after her mess. In the midst of the Caulfield’s conversation, a hesitant voice cut interjected itself, bringing their end of the discussion to a halt.

“Mom…Mom are you here?” a weak voice beyond a curtain a choked out in uncertainty before the sounds associated with crying could be heard. 

The Caulfield’s shifted their attention in sync toward the sound as Max immediately recognized the voice as the one belonging to Chloe. After the initial way of euphoria over the blunette regaining consciousness had subsided, the brunette found herself filled with dread as the memory of the girl’s mental state in the moments before the accident resurfaced. Taking note of their daughter’s reaction, Ryan and Vanessa exchanges a quick glance at one in other before standing up to take their leave. After pulling back the curtain dividing the room, the elder Caulfield’s made their exit to allow the girls a moment together. The two girls stared at each other in silence, as if to communicate telepathically, in anticipation of the moment they could speak freely about what the two of them had been through. Once the door closed, Chloe was the first to speak, as a wave of relief swept through the air.

“Max…what the fuck…what happened?” 

In the midst of her opening remarks, the blunette attempted to shift on to one side before a sudden influx of pain caused her to reconsider that action. Initially surprised, a look of tremendous discomfort was visible on her face as she attempted to reassemble the pieces from the memory on how they came to be in the hospital. Max was slightly taken aback by how rough her friend looked. Her wrist had been placed in a small cast, the opposite shoulder had to be supported by a sling and her face had multiple bandages on it and bruises accompanied by swelling had already started to surface on her skin. Coupled with the hospital gown, the blunette certainly looked to be in rough shape.

“Chloe…do you remember the accident?” the brunette inquired before pausing. “Do you remember why we left Arcadia Bay?”

“Ha, I wish I didn’t remember that,” the blunette countered coldly before falling back on the bed with a sigh. “Max, what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to lean on each other,” the brunette said with a new-found sense of determination. “That’s how we get through this…we rely on each other.”

Back in the truck, Max could see Chloe torturing herself over what had happened to the people in Arcadia Bay. With the blunette having become distraught over the fate of the town, the grief was plastered on her face each time she looked at her. In that moment, Max refused to let her Chloe blame herself for what happened. With the death of both of her parents and the loss of her childhood home, the brunette was afraid that this would be too much to endure and finally be the catalyst that would break Chloe completely. Evidently Other Max had sacrificed nearly everything to save the young punk, and the brunette refused to let that be in vein. Having decided that if this was in fact an alternate timeline, she would do whatever was necessary to for the blunette to move past the guilt of what happened. 

It was my choice…or her choice, Max thought while finding her resolve, whatever…it’s my curse to endure.

“Okay Max,” the blunette said with a slight smile on her face, “I hope that’s enough.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max searches for evidence on Jefferson and Prescott

Chapter 10 Sun 13th morning

As it turns out, regular nighttime excursions proved to be rather disruptive to Max’s sleep cycle. Despite feeling the effects of sleep deprivation, Max had spent the better part of the last hour staring at the ceiling of the dimly lit dorm room. Exasperated, the brunette finally accepted that there would be no going back to sleep, despite her best efforts, as the first rays of sun began to reflect through the window. The original intention had been to spend the restless time in bed, surmising an alternate strategy now that the Nathan plan had fallen by the waist side, but became rather fixated on the blonde girl across the hall in its stead. In place of focusing her faculties’ on the discovery of potential new avenues to pursue, the brunette became absorbed in reminiscing over the girls touch and the scent of her perfume. Finally relenting after her right hand had started to drift south, she forced herself out of bed after spending the better part of two hours lying awake.

The earlier options Max had considered were revisited but eventually each were discarded in favor of new ideas. Ultimately, the brunette decided to go another direction as each option had presented drawbacks or risks that had been deemed unacceptable. Given that the strategy with Nathan had been undone by circumstance that couldn’t have been foreseen, the brunette decided to place clear precedence on options where success was largely dependent on her. Considering the influence the Prescott’s still held over the ABPD, any option dependent on police action was discarded as the arrangement rendered them unreliable at best. The possibility of sending an anonymous tip to David remained but Max felt the man would be even less up to the task after receiving an email from Blackwell yesterday. During the afternoon on Saturday, Principle Wells sent out an email informing students that David Madsen would be on bereavement leave until further notice to handle the death of his stepdaughter.

The most viable option to bring down Mr. Jefferson and Sean Prescott was still the evidence in the dark room. This notion led Max to believe that the most promising course of action was for her to go to the dark room herself. As much as the prospect of returning to the source of this nightmare caused her stomach to turn, Max could think of no better alternatives. The plan was now set, but there was still an issue in regard to transportation to be placated. The only option that didn’t present the brunette with a moral query was asking Warren to barrow his car. In the original time, Max had done her best to not lead him on, but remained confident in her ability to secure the car without having to resort to nefarious means. That fact didn’t abstain Max from a sense of guilt however, especially after Other Max had accepted his invitation to “Go Ape” next weekend in this timeline. In the brunette’s mind, Warren was a nice guy, a friend, but not someone that she would be romantically interested in. Pushing her sense of guilt aside, Max made a mental note to let Warren know how creepy asking someone to “Go Ape” sounded despite the fact that it was an innocent invitation to a Planet of the Apes movie marathon.  
Max sighed as she pulled out her phone to text Warren.

Max: Hey, are you around today? I need a favor…  
Warren: Hey Mad Max! Nice to hear from you, but yeah I’m around…  
Max: Awesome, can I stop by this morning?  
Warren: Fo shizzle Max Power, anytime…

Damn, he is such a nerd, Max thought as she chuckled to herself. 

Deeming it necessary after the emotional rollercoaster that the previous night had been; Max decided in favor of taking a shower prior to meeting Warren at his dorm. Being that it was early, Max was able to get through without interruption, and be on approach to the boy’s section of the dormitories by 8:00 am. However, her arrival was met with another reminder of the week that had been erased. Before turning to approach Warren’s door, Max glanced down the hallway in the direction of Nathan’s old room. If common sense didn’t dictate otherwise, the brunette would attest to witnessing a tumble weed blowing with the wind in the distance outside his old room. Her imagination in fact, wasn’t all that dissimilar from reality. The Prescott’s had the contents moved out of Nathans old room the day after the shooting had taken place. Frustrated, Max lamented over another potential source of intel squandered. Having remembered the evidence uncovered there, and how helpful said evidence had proved to be in the original timeline, Max would have to hope that there was still evidence remaining to be found. With the dorm empty, the hour glass had been effectively turned over on the brunette, as both Blackwell and Sean Prescott were doing their best to erase all evidence of Nathan’s presence at the school.

Disgusted by the notion of Mr. Jefferson and Sean Prescott allowing Nathan take the fall for what transpired in the dark room, Max turned her attention to Warren. Having knocked on the door, the brunette pondered the likelihood of which her gentleman caller would be resistant to the notion of loaning out the car. The expectation for which was particularly low, given the young man’s present infatuation, but Max was willing to do anything to secure the keys. The thought made the brunette uncomfortable, but as a last resort, the option of stealing the keys remained on the table. While the intention had always been to use the rewind for good, the prospect of employing it for one’s own gain was a temptation that she felt needed to be guarded against. In the same manner as with Frank, the brunette would simply steal them and then rewind, leaving them none the wiser as to what happened to the keys. As Max stood waiting, Warren opened the door almost as soon as she finished knocking.

“Hey Super Max!” Warren greeted enthusiastically before gesturing for her to enter, “Welcome…so what’s this favor you need to ask?”  
“Hey Mister Wizard,” Max replied before wondering if that nickname had ever been used in this timeline.

The sight of Warren’s room was just how Max had remembered it. Having limited space to work with, as all dorm rooms where practically identical, he still had managed to cram an impressive amount of nerd paraphernalia within the space. On the walls were posters for; The X-Files, Doctor Who, and World of Warcraft. Displayed above the bed was a black and white poster of a cat resting its head with a caption reading, “Schrodinger’s Cat wants out of the box already.” Not to be out done by the walls, every flat surface was also covered in action figures, bobble heads, and various other collectables from video games and movies; including the centerpiece of every nerd collection, a lightsaber.   
After settling into the room and declining the subsequently offered cold beverage, Warren proved to be more difficult to convince than Max had anticipated. Initially cold toward the idea, he was rather insistent on just driving the brunette to the intended destination. Eventually relenting, she was able to convince him to lend her the car, but not without offering a concession in return. Max knew that bringing Mr. Jefferson and Sean Prescott down might require sacrifice but this was almost more than she could bear. 

“Come on,” Warren insisted, “it won’t be that bad. It’ll be over before you know it… Do you have any idea how hard it is to get girls to do this kind of thing?”  
“Are you cereal?” Max counted, “That’s ridiculous… there’s got to be something else you want.”  
“Nope,” Warren replied with a smirk, “those are my terms. Take ‘em or leave them… I’ve put too much time and effort into this to give up now.”  
“Uhhh! Fine,” Max groaned as she finally relented to his demands. “But you can’t tell anybody about this,” the brunette countered, already becoming nervous over the prospect of Victoria finding out what she had done.  
“Awesome!” Warren proclaimed as he pumped his fists in victory. “Hey…don’t be nervous okay? I’m sure you’ll do great. Although…it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to get some experience first before we get to it…”

In order to secure the car, Max had to agree to accompany Warren on a quest in World of Warcraft. The brunette was familiar enough with the game having played it, even knowing the lingo well enough to use in conversation, but full appreciation the game required a time commitment that she just couldn’t justify. In preparation, he had spent the better part of the last month grinding for XP for the questline for the “Thunderfury: Blessed Blade of the Windseeker,” a notoriously long and difficult questline to obtain one of the best weapons in the game. A questline made significantly easier if undertaken with others, hence Warrens request.

“Now give me the keys you evil bastard,” Max snapped, only partially teasing.  
“Here you go,” Warren responded while looking quite pleased with his negotiation skills before relinquishing the keys, “pleasure doing business with you.”  
“Where’d you learn to negotiate like that anyway?” Max inquired, convinced she had just gotten the short end of the stick.  
“Pawn Stars,” Warren replied curtly.  
“Oh for the love of god,” Max replied, shaking her head while moving towards the exit. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to bubble-hearth.” As Max closed the door, Warren could be heard doing his best impression of a maniacal super villain laugh. “Wowser, since when did Warren become an evil genius?” Max muttered before swearing to exact revenge on him someday. 

While traversing the Blackwell campus on route to the parking lot, Max was left with a feeling of emptiness in the pit of her stomach. While most Arcadians would discern that nothing had changed, the brunette saw physical manifestations of her pain around every corner. Along the way, there was nothing to indicate that Kate’s suicide attempt had taken place, missing person posters for Rachel Amber were still plastered everywhere, and Mr. Jefferson’s photographs were still prominently on display throughout the campus. Memory triggers from the original timeline existed everywhere, that when compared to the campus in its current state, made Max feel as though she was seeing ghosts. Reminiscing about her experiences in contrast to those of this altered reality, led the brunette to the somber realization that these events now only existed in her mind. Her father’s words proved to be more accurate than he could have ever anticipated, as he had been right about the challenges she would face by remaining at Blackwell. Pushing those memories aside in an attempt to return her attention to the present, the brunette continued down the walkway to parking lot. 

While making her way through the main plaza in front of Blackwell, Max ran into Brooke, who was out for an early morning flight with her drone. The brunette always tried to be nice to the girl, but their relationship thus far had been icy due to the fact that Warren had always been more interested in her. The entire scenario underscored the brunette’s distaste for typical high school drama as It wasn’t her fault that Other Max accepted his invitation to ‘Go Ape.” Although it did present a problem for the Max’s; neither of them had interest in a relationship of that nature with Warren, her other self presumably accepted due to their shared aversion to the word no. The brunette couldn’t blame her other self though, as she to probably would’ve accepted Warren’s invite, if not for reconnecting with Chloe that fateful day. Noticing that there was no one else around, the brunette decided this might be a good time to patch things up with Brooke.

“Hey Brooke, how’s the wind this morning?”  
In response, the girl barely managed a grunt of indifference, having not even bothered to take her attention off of the controls.  
“Right…” the brunette said before pausing, having already become annoyed with the other girl’s attitude. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go to the drive-in this weekend with Warren…I was thinking of suggesting to Warren that he take you.”  
“Uh…thanks,” Brooke replied, her demeanor having changed entirely, “but why would you do that?”  
“I just realized that…” the brunette paused before deciding to be honest, at least initially, with the other girl. “I realized that I don’t like him like that and…I don’t want to lead him on. Besides…he deserves to go with someone that wants to be with him.”  
Seemingly genuinely touched by the gesture, Brooke smiled before replying. “Yeah…that’d be great. Do you think he likes me like that?”

Relieved over the possibility of patching things up with Brooke and letting Warren down easy, Max managed to cross one thing off her to-do list, albeit an item that had been at the bottom. Despite being seemingly trivial in nature, it had been situations similar to this that Max felt that some good things had resulted from her rewind and had been able to make a difference and people’s lives. Those situations ultimately served as a counterbalance to all the pain and misery associated with that timeline and proved vital to providing the motivation to continue on. Although the storm would’ve also made a difference in the lives of those in Arcadia Bay, it wasn’t exactly the difference she had in mind.

After leaving things on a positive note with Brooke, Max took her leave to continue on to the parking lot. Continuing through the courtyard, the brunette found herself bombarded by piece after piece of Jefferson’s photos. The sight of each photo felt akin to a punch to the stomach, as they served as a reminder of the task that still lay before her. The brunette caught herself grinding her teeth before making an effort to quicken her pace as she moved through the courtyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa..10 chapters in already. Thanks to everyone to has read even a portion of what I've posted so far.
> 
> Hopefully you caught yourself laughing a couple of times during this chapter as I was trying to make it a light hearted chapter before stuff starts hitting the fan. So any feedback on the WoW bit would be welcome along with any other feedback.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max searches for evidence against Jefferson and Prescott

Despite traversing through the storm, Max had very little in terms of tangible driving experience. The entire focus had been singular while braving the elements, as the only thought had been saving Chloe by retrieving the photo from Warren at the Two-Whales diner prior to the arrival of the storm. This time however, the lack of imminent danger, along with the presence of additional cars on the road, caused the brunette to realize exactly how ill-prepared she was to be operating a motor vehicle. While Max drove through the streets of Arcadia Bay, her anxiety level spiked every time there was an abrupt stop or had neglected to check the blind spot. After nearly merging into another car, Max’s nerves were fried, her knuckles white from the intensity of her grip on the steering wheel. Considering that she didn’t have a license, the brunette was terrified of the prospect of getting pulled over as she approached a stop light. Impatiently waiting for the light to change, Max absent mindedly tapped her foot, while biting her lower lip. While observing the cars around her, the brunette had nearly jumped out of her seat at the sight of the car next to her.

“Ahhhh,” she screamed in surprise as she flinched away from the window.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing…sorry…I just didn’t see you pull up.”

“Well perhaps you should get your eyes checked young lady.”

In that moment, the light turned green, and Sean Prescott shook his head in irritation before accelerating through the light in his black Mercedes leaving the brunette in his wake. Still in a state of disbelief after coming in contact with the patriarch of the Prescott family, Max was startled into action by the sound of a horn beeping behind her. Finally pulling through the light, an apology was offered in the form of a tentative wave in response to the dirty look being directed at her from the other vehicle. Now proceeding on route to the barn, the brunette winced at the possibility that someone would be at the darkroom when she arrived.

_Well hopefully Prescott isn’t headin’ to the barn, Max mused internally, cuz that’d be pretty awkward._

Max spent the remainder of the drive to the old derelict farm house deep in thought, and checking her blind spot. The primary focus, other than arriving safely, being to prepare mentally for the prospect of returning to the darkroom as well as formulate a plan of action for after her arrival. Despite having the rewind at her disposal, Max couldn’t afford the risk of being spotted. Having devised previously that complacency would be their biggest weakness, the prospect of Jefferson or Prescott becoming aware of her suspicions would undoubtedly increase the difficulty of their apprehension by a substantial margin. Although, if each man believed themselves to be void of any risk, they became significantly more likely to make a mistake that Max could exploit. Subsequently, the brunette decided to park nearby and traverse the remaining distance on foot.

Having observed the scene from a secluded spot in the nearby woods, the battered barn appeared deserted as far as Max could tell. The brunette’s blue eyes had become transfixed on the barn, as the structure had somehow managed to instill an even greater sense of dread than had been anticipated. The barn looked just as derelict as it did in the original time line. Complete with the rusted out car in the front and the no trespassing sign toward the entrance, Max imagined that this scene would fit right into a horror movie at night. The wooden walls had become warped and rotten after years of neglect. The equipment fared no better, showing clear signs of wear due to being left to the elements. Convinced it was it was safe, and after summoning the necessitated courage, the brunette attempted to calm her nerves before beginning the approach to the farm house. Becoming increasingly apprehensive with each step, Max decided in favor of taking an additional pass around the building before eventually entering through the small opening on the left side.

Max had been filled with dread ever since deciding to come here, but the memories didn’t start to flood back until making the approach to the farm house. Thoughts of initially find a way in, learning that the douche beggary of the Prescott family went back generations, and ultimately finding the hidden entrance to the darkroom with Chloe all ran through her mind. As unpleasant as these memories were, the brunette knew that they paled in comparison to what await in the darkroom proper. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to stabilize her rapidly fleeting courage, the brunette found her resolve to continue on.

“Okay Max…get it together…you can do this…”

The interior of the barn had been left in a dilapidated state similar to that of the exterior. Being afforded the marginal protection from the elements by what remained of the roof did little to safeguard the contents from the effects of negligence. Having entered the barn, the brunette was greeted with the smell of rotting wood and moldy hay. As Max looked around the interior of the farm house, suppressing her gag reflex at the smell, she noticed it looked largely undisturbed. A fact that proved disappointing for the brunette, as she was hoping to avoid having to go through the ordeal of using the old motor to break through the lock in order to gain access to the darkroom hidden below. Despite being willing to employ its use, Max tried to keep use of the rewind to a minimum, as the potential for unforeseen consequences was still a prominent possibility. Having recreated the pulley by attaching one end of a rope to the lock, as Max pushed the motor from the upper floor, the memory of the first time she had done this crossed her mind.

_“MaxGyver strikes again!” she boasted as the lock broke off._

_With their goal finally within reach, she and Chloe struggled to open the hidden door before stepping back to examine what lay before them._

_“Do I even need to say how weird this is?” Max inquired._

_“You just did.” Chloe replied as the pair began their decent down the stairs. “Who builds this kind of place?”_

_“A Prescott, of course,” the brunette affirmed._

Descending the cold cement steps that led to the bunker proved even more haunting the second time. Reaching the bottom, Max paused as the trauma she had endure returned to the forefront of her mind. As the memories rushed forth, the brunette trembled at the prospect of returning to the site of the torment she had endured at the hands of Mr. Jefferson. In the pursuit of his obsession, Max had been tied to a chair and drugged; to capture the moment her innocence was lost. Her experience in the darkroom had left its scares, and returning to it, caused the wounds to be reopened.

“The slightly unconscious model is often the most open and honest.” The brunette recounted, as Jefferson’s words played through her mind. “No vanity or posing, just… pure expression.”

One of the more prominent memories in Max’s mind was the reality in which Victoria had also been taken. The brunette was haunted by the sound of Victoria’s voice as she pled for help. With her voice filled with desperation, she had begged the brunette to save her, to not let her die at the hands of Jefferson. Inadvertently, it had been Max’s fault that the blonde had ended up in the darkroom in the original timeline. After discovering a red binder with the blonde’s name on it in the darkroom, she had been determined to save her nemesis from that fate. While offering a warning to the danger she faced at the Vortex party, the brunette had been convinced that Nathan was the real threat and had his eyes set on Victoria as the next victim. In hindsight, it was obvious that Victoria would go to Mr. Jefferson for help, but at the time, it wasn’t known that he was to main culprit behind the disappearances. Realizing the walls were closing in, Jefferson had no choice but to take her and bring her to the darkroom.

“Max… Oh God, where… where are we? What’s happening?”

In another reality, where Victoria had already been killed, Max could still see the vision of David being shot by Jefferson over and over each time she had failed to help him win the confrontation. The sound of the gun shot, followed swiftly by her scream in disbelief, and the sight of David falling to the ground flooded through her mind. The rush of thoughts that came with her returning to this place further heightened the anxiety she felt as she needed to take a moment to collect herself before entering the darkroom proper. Practicing the breathing exercises she had looked up online, Max felt her thoughts relax and her heart slow as she began to pull out of the panic attack.

“You’d think that with all the Prescott’s money, they could afford to invest in a new keypad,” the brunette mumbled, lamenting the fact the numbers containing the code on the key pad had worn off, resulting in the code being rather easy to decipher.

Finally feeling up to the task, Max punched in the door code and braced herself as she turned the wheel to open the bunker door. With each subsequent turn, the brunette’s level of anticipation increased. By any measure of luck, here she would obtain sufficient evidence necessary to result in convictions for Jefferson and Prescott. In the original timeline, she and Chloe had discovered indisputable evidence of Mr. Jefferson and Sean Prescott’s culpability in the crimes that took place here. Jefferson’s involvement could be confirmed by the photos and equipment, in addition to the large bounty of finger prints that were assuredly on every surface. As for Prescott, numerous receipts bearing his signature proved his culpability as he had signed off on all of the expenses indicating his knowledge of the facility. In the end, he may be able to deny direct involvement, but he still could be found guilty as an accessory to the crimes.

Finally, the wheel came to an abrupt stop, Max leaned back to obtain all the leverage she could muster, and pulled the door open. In the midst of the struggle to open the massive door, the brunette lost the last semblance of her patience. When the door had been opened far enough, the anticipation had gotten the better of her, as she darted into the darkroom. Bypassing the entryway and the adjacent storage area completely, Max had broken into a slight jog toward the studio space before coming to an immediate stop after she brushed the curtain aside. Nothing could have prepared her for what lurked beyond the curtain in the darkroom and the sense of hopelessness it would bring.

“No!” Max shouted as she frantically looked around. “No…this can’t be it,” she continued, running further into the darkroom.

“No…No,” she stumbled out through her disbelief, “This…this can’t be happening.”

Max looked around frantically as if she didn’t believe what her eyes were showing her. As reality began to sink in, she could feel her breaths becoming short, as the walls began to close in around her. In the grip of panic, the brunette could offer nothing in the form of resistance as the forces around her began to press down like a weight placed on her chest. Eventually becoming overwhelmed by the symptoms, she collapsed to the floor after stumbling against the back wall.

Gone, it was all gone. All of the equipment, all of the photos, all of the evidence was gone. The dark room had always possessed the underlying ambiance of a dungeon, but with all of the photography equipment and amenities gone, only a desolate scene remained in its stead. The equipment and the contemporary art had managed to create a rather chic, minimalist vibe, befitting a man like Jefferson. Now with the bunker nearly empty the vibe had been replaced with a cold, suffocating presence. Any trace of the crimes that took place had been removed, leaving in its wake only some furniture along with the food and water supplies. With it, the brunette’s hope that there would be justice for Chloe, and that she herself might be able to obtain some measure peace. Avenging Chloe had been the only thing keeping Max going. With the chances of that becoming increasingly bleak, the brunette began to crack under the weight of everything she lost. Having lost track of time, Max slowly began to calm down and she began to process what this meant.

“Are they going to get away with this?” Max considered aloud hopelessly.

“What did they do with everything?” she wondered. “If they destroyed everything… I’m screwed.”

“If they didn’t,” Max’s dark thoughts continued, “where would I even begin to look? …Pretty sure they won’t have a piece of paper lying around saying “here’s where we stored the incriminating evidence” with a map marked with an X.”

The longer Max stayed there the greater the risk that her presence there would be discovered. Knowing that she needed to leave ASAP, the brunette began to put herself back together again. Deciding to take a final look around in the event that something had been left behind; Max checked the couch, under the cabinets, anywhere an item of importance could’ve been misplaced. After the final walkthrough turned up nothing, Max exited the bunker and proceeded up the stairs, becoming increasingly dejected with each step. Reaching the top, the brunette paused briefly before using her rewind to undo any trace of the fact that she had been there. The bunker door shut, the wheel turned left to seal the door, the paddle lock reattached to the hidden door and the old motor returned to the second floor. Satisfied, Max moved to the side door, returned the sheet metal concealing the opening and began to walk back to the car with her head down.


	12. Chapter 12

In desperate need of a distraction from the abject failure that had been the trip to the Prescott barn, Max turned to the radio while merging back onto the main road leading into Arcadia Bay. Finding nothing that aligned with her taste, the brunette scoffed in frustration at the lack of indie rock on the radio. Unable to be placated by music, Max was left to contemplate the extent of the failure at the darkroom. With the last known source of evidence gone, the next course of action seemed to be currently out of her grasp. Lost in her train of thought, the brunette was pulled back into the present by the sound of her cell phone going off, signaling that the device again had service. Glancing down at the phone, Max received a much needed boost to her mental state as the senders name displayed on the screen.

**Victoria:** Hey, where are you? Do you want to grab lunch?

_Max smiled to herself before thinking, why yes Victoria; I would very much like to have lunch with you._

**Max:** Definitely, I’m on my way back to Blackwell right now.

**Victoria:** Great, stop by my room when you get back. 

A lunch invite from a certain blonde girl proved to be exactly the distraction Max needed in that moment. Feelings of defeat and despair, experienced only a moment earlier, had been replaced with those of excitement and anticipation by the prospect of seeing the blonde. Becoming preoccupied to the extent that, the brunette seemed to develop a spontaneous case of lead foot and had to retrain herself from speeding the remaining distance to Blackwell. Eventually arriving at the parking lot, Max gathered her possessions before exiting the car. Now having arrived at Blackwell, Max only needed return Warren’s keys before heading to Victoria’s dorm. 

While doing the best speed walking, but don’t look like you’re speed walking impression on the path from the parking lot to the dormitories, Max saw Alyssa sitting by the fountain reading her trashy romance novel. Their eyes met, so each offered the other an awkward wave to the other as the brunette passed the fountain. In the midst of doing so, the purple haired girl flinched as she felt something hit the top of her head. 

“Aw…gross!” Alyssa whined after pulling her hand away from the top of her head.

_Wowsers, in terms of having a shit cloud following you; this girl is second only to Chloe._  

As it happened, a bird passing overhead had defecated, which subsequently landed directly on top of the poor girls head. Despite putting forth a valiant effort to suppress a laugh, a smile managed to creep across Max’s face, much to the annoyance of Alyssa. With a sigh, the brunette decided to rewind back and warn her about the bird. Struggling to come up with an excuse, she quickly asked Alyssa to pose for a shot with her Polaroid, before taking the same photo of the bird perched on the fountain that she had in the original timeline. After reluctantly agreeing to so, the purple haired girl moved in time to avoid the bird droppings, but remained blissfully unaware of what almost happened to her.

_With great power, comes great bullshit, Max thought as she walked away after saying goodbye._   

Making plans for lunch with Victoria offered Max a brief reprieve from the anxiety the surfaced due to the failure that her trip to the darkroom had become. But that anxiety had returned in full force, albeit with a difference catalyst, by the time she stood outside of the blonde’s door after returning the keys to Warren. Before knocking on her door, Max had to take a moment to acknowledge the butterflies in her stomach. While recognizing that it had become no longer prudent to deny the fact that she was crushing hard on Victoria, the uncertainty as to whether or not the feeling was mutual still plagued the brunette. Frustrated by the level of ambiguity, Max slowly exhaled before knocking on the door. 

“Hey…what up sista?” Victoria greeted clearly in a playful tone as she smiled before gently touching her arm. “This that a new hoodie? It looks cute on you.” 

The playfulness of the comment had Max momentarily certain that Victoria was flirting with her, before the doubt returned and with it, the consideration that she was merely reading into the situation. Realizing the pause was on the verge of becoming awkward, the brunette scrambled to formulate a response in the same tone as the blonde. 

“Hey… Vic,” Max replied struggling to replicate Victoria’s playful tone. “uh… insert playful comment here.”

_Jeez, talk about a big swing and miss right there, eh Max, Max thought as she admonished herself._

“God, you’re so awkward it’s adorable,” Victoria replied. “Come on, what do you think about Two-Whales? I could totally go for a burger and fries right now.”

“Yeah… sure, that sounds good,” Max replied after hesitating. “I could definitely nosh on a burger right now.”

“Nosh?” Victoria asked with an amused smirk on her face.

“Shut up,” Max countered suddenly embarrassed by her choice of slang. 

While the thought of a burger from the Two-Whales was in fact enticing, Max was more than a little apprehensive toward the prospect of returning there for the first time since Chloe passed. Experiencing the sights and smells of a place where she and Chloe had spent so much time in the original timeline was unappealing to say the least. However, the brunette eventually decided to go after realizing that it would be a good opportunity to speak to Joyce if she happened to be working. Besides Max figured going with Victoria was preferable to going alone and now was as good a time as any. Although, as they pulled into parking lot at the Two-Whales, Max questioned the wisdom of her earlier decision to agree to come here as her anxiety returned.

_Well we’re here now, I guess it’s too late to change my mind, Max conceded now resigned to the fact of where they would be eating._  

As the pair made their approach to the entrance, the door frame proved to be surprising intimidating for the brunette, causing her further regret in regard to agreeing to come here. Sensing hesitation on the part of her companion, Victoria grabbed the brunette’s hand and pulled her inside, before the girl had a chance to protest. Being back in the diner, Max couldn’t help but remember the horrific scene that had been inside that night. Joyce, Warren, and Frank were among the people taking refuge from the storm inside, hoping it would be able to withstand the high winds and rain. By the time she had arrived the diner was barely still standing, debris lay scattered throughout the interior and the right side of the building had suffered a collapse. The survivors huddled together on the floor, while Joyce tended to a wounded Frank and Warren tried to help however he could. The feel of desperation had been in the air, and the atmosphere was one of people resigned to their fate just waiting for the end. Even though Max had used the photo to go back, she could still see the look of hopelessness on the faces of the people there. 

Fortunately for Max, she was being led through the diner by Victoria; otherwise she would’ve likely stood frozen in a trance seeing only the diner as it had been the night of the storm. As the two moved in search of a booth, Max noticed Joyce immediately standing behind the counter. All she could muster in the moment was meek smile and nod along with an awkward wave. It came as a relief to Max to see that Joyce’s face had brightened a bit at the sight of her entering the diner. The two of them sat themselves, thankfully in a different table than one her and Chloe sat at. When they first sat down Max was so relieved that it wasn’t Chloe’s old table that it took her a moment to notice that they were seated at the same table were Frank had his meltdown over his beans. 

“I was eating those beans – are you fucking insane?” Frank had said, surprised as he was furious. “I WAS EATING THOSE BEANS!” 

In the midst of the tirade, Frank began to get out of the booth, although failing to consider the effect the beans would have on a floor, as he promptly found himself on the floor having slipped on the beans. Max couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. There weren’t too many memories from that week outside of her time with Chloe that made her smile but seeing Frank loose his shit over spilled beans was definitely one of them. By that point in the original timeline, Max had begun just trying stuff to see what would happen knowing that she could rewind it back, a dumping his food on the floor was one of those instances. Noticing there had been a gap in the conversation during her daydream, Max desperately tried to think of something to get them talking again. 

“So… you said you’re going to get a burger?” Max asked sheepishly.

“Yeah…I could totally nosh on one right now,” Victoria teased.

“Lord, you’re never going to let that go are you?” Max replied submitting to the playful teasing.

“Hey, I like you hipster slang,” Victoria admitted as she smiled, “I think it’s cute.”

Max barely had time to process that Victoria had just used the word cute when referring to Max for the second time since they left Blackwell before Joyce walked up to the table.

“Hey hon, how have you been?” Joyce inquired with genuine concern before continuing, “It’s good to see you.”

_Maybe I should have mentioned Chloe’s mom might be here, Max thought before responding, after she noticed Victoria had a perplexed look on her face._  

“Hey Joyce,” Max replied, feeling particularly small at the prospect of facing Joyce for the first time since changing the timeline. Now with the poor woman standing before her, the brunette could barely maintain eye contact after noticing the pain visible in her eyes over the loss of Chloe. The waitress was doing her best to stay strong, but Max could see the emptiness behind her eyes. Joyce had always been a strong woman, having found the strength to move on after William had died, but Max worried that losing Chloe as well would prove too much for her to bear. 

“I’ve been okay,” Max continued, “I’m still trying to sort through what happen last week.”

“Honey, there’s nothing to sort through,” Joyce replied sounding sincere as she could, “it was just my baby’s time to go. And that’s not something we can hope to understand, we just have to trust that and know she’s in a better place.” 

Max had been unable to hold back tears while listening to Joyce as she wanted to believe her words more than anything in that moment. Feeling a sense of relief form Joyce’s words, the brunette admonished herself for not knowing that the elder Price would find the words to raise her spirits. She was struck by the fact that Joyce seemed serene and wise like a fabled Jedi Master of Star Wars lore. Amused at the thought of Joyce in Jedi robes, Max replied; 

“Yes, master Jedi,” Max replied with a slight grin on her face whilst wiping away tears.

“Oh hush,” responded Joyce while returning the smile. “Now what can get you two?

Feeling left out, Victoria took this as an opportunity to interject herself into the conversation.

“I think we’ll both have the bacon cheddar burger with fries and a Diet Coke.” Victoria stated while looking a Max for confirmation.

Joyce saw Max nod in approval before saying, “Excellent, I’ll go put in your order.”

Joyce took one step away before turning on her heel to ask Max, “Hey can you make sure we talk before you leave? It’s about Chloe.”

“Sure, you bet,” Max answer knowing it was now obvious that Joyce was Chloe’s mom. She hoped Victoria wouldn’t be too uncomfortable as the prospect of being waited on by the mother of the daughter that her best friend killed. The brunette knew that she should’ve mentioned that fact that Chloe’s mom worked at the Two-Whales, but had been scared at the notion of discussing her with Victoria. Now that decision had been made for her, Max dreaded the possibility that Victoria would be upset that she hadn’t been informed.

_Well here goes nothing, the brunette thought as she reluctantly turned her gaze toward the blonde._

Victoria being as blunt as ever, addressed the elephant in the room as soon as Joyce had stepped away from the table.

“So…,” Victoria paused a moment to let the awkwardness saturate the air, “that’s Chloe’s mom?”

“Yeah,” Max started, subconsciously avoiding eye contact, “sorry I should have told you she might be here. But after you said you wanted to come here I didn’t want to give that as a reason not to… and after I saw her I didn’t know what to say.”

“Fair enough,” Victoria assured Max with a smile, “just promise me if we’re ever going to the same place your parents are at, you’ll give me a heads up.” The taller girl continued to show her smile meant to indicate to Max that she was teasing.

“Deal,” the brunette replied with a laugh before returning the smile.

Fortunately Victoria seemed pretty understanding much to Max’s relief. It wasn’t long until the mood relaxed and the dynamic between the two had become as flirtatious as it had been previously. They had finally gotten around to discussing how each of them were surprised at how close they had become over the last few days, especially considering how they were almost at each other’s throats earlier in the semester. Max couldn’t help but smile when after noticing the awkward shift in Victoria’s demeanor as the blonde struggled to settle on a word to quantify their relationship before eventually settling on friendship.  Realizing this was an opportunity to try her hand at teasing Victoria, the brunette decided to put herself out there knowing the rewind was always an option. 

“Aw… you’re so cute when you get awkward,” Max did her best to sound playful before sticking out her tongue.

“Shut up,” was all Victoria could muster before pouting on the other end of the table.

But Max had to admit, she never would’ve predicted how much she would come to rely on Victoria after the week they had in the other timeline. Shortly thereafter their food arrived and the conversation tapered off again as they each became engrossed on the deliciousness that was the locally famous bacon cheddar burger at the Two-Whales Diner. While the noshed on their food, the two could barely manage more than a courtesy inquiry on the condition of the others food. As the two were finishing up their meals, Max noticed Victoria’s demeanor had changed slightly. It wasn’t more than a moment later before Victoria began to gear up for the bit of serious new she had to share.

 “So,” Victoria began earnestly, “I heard from Kristine this morning.” She then paused to give Max a moment to guess what was coming next.

_Shit, Max thought. The darkroom this morning was bad enough. I don’t think I can take any more bad news today._

 “Oh yeah,” Max followed up reluctantly, “what did she have to say?”

“They’re going to announce Nathans death sometime this afternoon.” Victoria answered. “She wanted to give me a heads up for the inevitable media shit storm that will descend upon Blackwell tomorrow.”

“Ah man, are you cereal?” Max asked already knowing that Victoria was serious. “Are they going to cancel classes tomorrow?”

“I don’t think so, tomorrow was supposed to be the first day back after classes had been canceled for the rest of last week.” Victoria stated to offer up the only explanation she had heard.

The conversation carried on for a little while after that. The two of them discussed what they were anticipating the environment on campus to be like tomorrow and if they intended on attending all of their classes. As neither was particularly excited by the prospect of classes resuming, they decided to play it by ear and see how things played out tomorrow. As they were getting ready to leave, Victoria agreed to wait in her car so Max could talk to Joyce alone before they left. As Max approached Joyce, the older woman smiled before motioning toward a back room where the two of them could have some privacy.

 “Hey hon, I just wanted to see how you were doing and…,” Joyce had to paused as she attempted to main her composure, “and let you know what’s going on with Chloe.”

“Oh Joyce, I’m so sorry,” Max pleaded in response. “I should be asking you how you’re doing.”

“It’s… It’s been a struggle,” Joyce admitted. “But me and David are getting by,” Joyce paused to wipe tears from her eyes before continuing. “I found a few keepsakes I thought you’d want to have to remember her by.”

“Oh that’d be great,” Max responded with as much enthusiasm as she could. At this point, it was unlikely that the brunette would even be able to look at the stuff but there was no way she could turn Joyce down like that.

“Good, we’re having a service for Chloe on Wednesday this week.” Joyce had to pause again as her lip start to tremble at the mention of Chloe’s funeral. “You could pick up the stuff then; of course we would love it if you could be there.”

“Of course Joyce,” Max replied while trying to console her as best she could. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Great, we’ll you better run along and I have to get back to work,” Joyce said as she tried to prepare herself to go back to the dining area of the diner. “I’ll text you the details.”

 As Max walked back to Victoria’s car she couldn’t decide who was more grateful for that conversation to be over; her or Joyce. Both of them were on the verge of tears and each could see in the other’s eyes that they had already shed enough tears for that day. Mercifully bringing the conversation to an end was a relief to the both of them as each served as a reminder to other of what had been lost. For Joyce, Max had been like a second daughter and seeing her was a constant reminder of the one she had lost. While for Max, Joyce had been like a second mother but at the root of her anguish lay the guilt of knowing that it had been her choice to sacrifice Chloe.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Victoria return to Blackwell...

** Chapter 13 Sun 13th 2ish  **

 

As Max and Victoria made the return trip back to Blackwell Academy, it was decided the two would await the announcement of Nathan’s death in Victoria’s room. Having settled on a plan for the night, the car fell silent as an element of awkwardness resurfaced between the two former adversaries. The encounter with Joyce had been a catalyst in regards to each girl becoming preoccupied on thoughts of the other. Victoria had become fixated on the nature of the relationship between the brunette and Chloe Price, while Max was absorbed by the guilt that she was taking advantage of the blonde. Rendered uncomfortable by the silence, Victoria hesitantly inquired on the outcome of the conversation with Joyce, after finding nothing of interest on the radio. Preferring to not give a particularly detailed account of the encounter, Max kept the response brief and was thankful when Victoria didn’t press the issue. However, the shortness of the answer was misinterpreted by the blonde, as it had been mistaken as reflection of irritability on the part of the brunette rather than the anxiousness that it actually was. As a result, the remainder of the trip was spent in relative silence as Max gazed out the window, while Victoria exchanged glances between the road and the music library on her phone.

 

Eventually parking and proceeding to the dormitories, Victoria broke the silence by broaching a subject that Max had been curious about for some time.

“So Taylor and Courtney have been giving me a lot of shit,” the blonde paused while considering the choice of words carefully, “for… for hanging out with you.”

“Yeah, I can’t say I’m surprised,” Max replied before turning to face Victoria, “They are bitches after all.”

Victoria burst out laughing at the frankness of Max’s reply before affirming, “That they are Max… that they are.”

 

Half expecting Victoria to change topics after entering the room, Max was a little surprised when Victoria continued to press the issue.

“They just don’t get what we’ve gone through this past week since the shooting.” Victoria resumed before shaking her head, “All they can think about is… is how much shit I talked about you all semester.”

“True, but I get it… you saw the reaction from Dana and Juliet the other day,” Max offered, “I mean… we were at each other’s throats all semester before this started.”

“I know,” the blonde replied after diverting her eyes, “it just all seems so petty when I look back on it now…”

“Hey,” the brunette interjected before reaching out to Victoria’s elbow, “What’s going on? Why are you telling me all of this?”

“I just wanted…” Victoria answered before letting her words trail off. Pausing to gather her courage, the blonde took Max’s hands in her own before locking eyes with the brunette. “I just wanted you to know I don’t care about what people think.”

Max couldn’t help but start to tear up at the blonde’s words as she knew how hard it was for Victoria to put herself out in the open like this. Frantic, the brunette racked her brain in search of a sentiment equally as thoughtful before settling on;

 “V… I don’t… I don’t care either.”

 

By this point, the air had become so palpable that the tension in the room had reached the breaking point. Regardless of the outcome, there would likely be a shift in the dynamic of the relationship. Overwhelmed by apprehension at the moment, the two of them stood together in silence, holding each other’s hands. Terrified at the prospect of their feelings not being reciprocated, each girl attempted to telepathically will the person across from them to make a move. The thing about attraction is, from the outside it is obvious when two people are drawn to each other. But in that bubble, for the people involved, the uncertainty can prove to be debilitating. Convinced that neither of them was going to make a move, Victoria desperately searched for a way out of this situation. Finding no other preferable option, the blonde settled on suggesting;

 

“Let see if there is anything on TV about Nathan yet.”

“Yeah… Yeah okay,” Max eventually managed to stutter out in response.

With that, Max sat on the couch while Victoria went to pick up the remote. Simultaneously, the two of them were each berating themselves over how their previous exchange had just ended.

_Come on V! You know Max is way too shy to make the first move! That was on you!_

_Dog dang it, I’m so stupid. Vic was just standing there wait for me to kiss her! But of course I pussed out again, I’m such a loser. Hell, I probably never would’ve kissed Chloe if she hadn’t straight up dared me to do it._

 

After pinpointing the location of the remote, Victoria turned and proceeded to join the brunette on the couch. In the midst of doing so, the blonde flashed a smile at the awaiting girl, much to the relief of the latter. Now fully convinced a perfect opportunity to kiss Victoria had been squandered, Max contemplated employing the use of a rewind. However, before arriving at a decision, a hand grazed across her leg before clasping her hand. Rendered positively euphoric by the gesture, the brunette could only offer a smile wide enough to cause physical discomfort in her cheeks in response.

 Instantly pleased upon noticing Max’s reaction, Victoria giggled before saying, “you’re such a dork, but at least you’re a cute dork.”

 

In the original timeline, Max had come to rely on the rewind, even in situations where employing its use was unwarranted. Although, after Victoria’s words, the brunette decided to let the situation play out naturally, realizing that utilizing the rewind would rob her of the excitement that came with a relationship developing slowly over time. Settling into the other’s embrace, the two of them sat together, still holding hands as Victoria flipped through the channels in search of the news. Sure enough, channel 11 had a reporter on standby outside of the ABPD building with the tagline, “Police Chief calls 3:00 pm press conference.” Noticing that the press conference was about to start, Max and Victoria exchanged glances as the blonde turned up the volume on the TV.

 

“Yes, we’re standing outside the ABPD waiting the police chief to address the media.” Maggie Maggenhall said, still in her best reporter voice Max noticed. “It’s believed the announcement will be related to the ongoing investigation of the shooting of a former student at Blackwell Academy. He is expected to take the podium at any moment.”

Victoria glanced at Max once again before tightening her grip on the other’s hand as the police chief began approaching the podium.

“You ready for this?” Victoria asked.

“No,” Max replied bluntly.

Victoria sighed before admitting, “Yeah, me neither.”

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen,” the police chief began, clearly reading a prepared statement. “We called to press conference to announce that at approximately 5:27 am Nathan Prescott was found dead in his holding cell.”

An audible gasp could be heard as everyone in attendance reacted to the news.

“We are still in the process of investigating how this was able to occur and as a result we will not be disclosing the specifics regarding his death until that investigation has been completed,” the police chief continued on in a flat, mono tone voice.

The audible gasp from before was replaced by an even louder, “Ahh,” groan from those in attendance.

 

The press conference provided little else worthy of note, other than the fact that the police chief didn’t take any questions at the end. After its conclusion, Max and Victoria sat in silence, unable to process what they had just witnessed. That silence proved to be only a brief reprieve from the chaos surrounding them as not long after the press conference had ended; each girl’s phone began to be bombarded with calls and text messages regarding the news conference. Overwhelmed by the quantity of calls and texts, they both decided to ignore their phones for time being and just be in the moment together. Max was feeling exhausted, not just from the events of the day, but from the weight she had been carrying since altering the timeline in the girl’s bathroom in Blackwell Academy. Eyelids suddenly feeling heavy, the brunette relented as she closed her eyes before resting her head on Victoria’s shoulder in an effort to forget about the task that lay before her.

 

“It’s my fault Max…it’s my fault they’re gone,” the blonde muttered while suddenly losing the ability to make eye contact.

“What are you talking about V? It’s my fault…I was there,” Max replied, puzzled over the direction of the conversation.

“No… you don’t…Nathan never should’ve been there alone.”

“Why not… what do you mean?”

“Nathan…he wanted to meet up after class,” the blonde replied, now on the verge of tears, “but I blew him off to prance around in front of Jefferson.”

 

Unbeknownst to Max, on the day of the shooting, Nathan asked Victoria to meet him after class with the intention of her acting as a mediator to the meeting with Chloe. The Prescott son had thought that her presence as back up would aid in convincing the bluenette to walk away, since actually shooting her was never his intention. In his mind, the gun was only intended to serve as a last resort in the event that Chloe could not be dissuaded from attempted blackmail and required a scare tactic. Although he needed a friend, Nathan chose to not inform the blonde as to the reason for meeting, given his reluctance to share the particulars if that later proved unnecessary. Seeing no reason for urgency, Victoria dismissed his request by suggesting that the two of them get together later.

 

Given the available information, the blonde was much more interested in using her assets in an attempt to tilt the results of the Everyday Hero’s Contest in her favor. Confident in her photographic abilities, not to mention her long legs, the blonde was convinced that Jefferson would eventually pick her photo, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t willing to hold her thumb on the scale if necessary. Feeling dejected over the dismissal, the young Prescott decided to not press the matter further after considering the potential risks associated with the blo4nde’s attendance. Grudgingly, Nathan accepted the notion that he would have to resolve the situation on his own. A fateful decision that would change the lives of all parties involved in the incident in the bathroom that day.  

 

“So there I was, bent over with my ass sticking out, eye banging Jefferson, when we heard the shot.”

“Wowser…what did you do?”

“We both…just froze. Next thing we know, there’s a lot of yelling, and someone calling for an ambulance.” The blonde paused before continuing somberly, “Then we heard Mr. Madsen say over the radio that he…that he had the shooter in custody.”

“Did you think it was Nathan?”

“I did…I hoped it wasn’t,” Victoria paused before looking away. “But in the back of my mind…I think I already knew it was him.”

 

With the situation apparently in hand, Jefferson, accompanied by Victoria despite his insistence otherwise, proceeded to the entryway of the main building. While some were fleeing in the opposite direction in terror, by the time they had made it to the area outside the bathroom, a small crowd had already started to form. As the pair approached, the frantic conversations taking place were brought to an abrupt halt by the sound of Chloe’s screams bleeding through the walls. For a few minutes, the crowd fell silent waiting for some kind of update. No one had dared to speak in those moments, instead preferring to watch the scene play out in front of them in horror, much in the same way those aboard the lifeboats had watched the Titanic sink into the sea. Just as abruptly as time seemed too stopped, it suddenly started again with the arrival of the ambulance and Nathan being handed over to the police. As the young man emerged from the bathroom in handcuffs, an audible gasp could be heard from the crowd while Victoria simultaneously made eye contact with the assailant.

 

“When I saw him taken out in handcuffs…my heart just sank,” the blonde stated, closing her eyes in an effort to erase the memory from her mind. “I looked him in the eyes... I could tell he was broken. It’s my fault…If I hadn’t been so obsessed over winning the contest; I would’ve been there…”

“V…it’s not your fault…I’m the reason Chloe was there in the first place.”

 

All too familiar with the pain Victoria was enduring, Max decided to share the history behind her and Chloe’s relationship. Telling the story of how they had been inseparable as kids, until she had been forced to move to Seattle just after Chloe’s father, William Price had died, brought the burden she carried over the bluenette’s decent crashing down on her. Just as the blond did, Max blamed herself for her friend ending up in the bathroom. For the brunette, it had been her guilt over the abandonment of her childhood friend, believing that to be the cause of her life going off track. While for Victoria, her inability to fully recognize the extent of Nathan’s issues and subsequent failure to get him the help he desperately needed, in her mind, put her at fault for his fate. Having learned the other side of the prelude to that fateful moment, the sequence of events that day became clear to each of them as the story had come full circle. Realizing that they shared the same grief, the two girl’s eyes met as neither of them could quantify the connection they shared as a result. Instead, they were content to merely embrace and wipe away the others tears.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes: This chapter saw a fairly extensive rewrite after my initial draft. Initially the section on Victoria's POV of the shooting wasn't included. It wasn't added until the second draft when I was trying to justify Chasefield by making the shift in their relationship believable. Hopefully I succeeded in doing so haha. Again thanks to everyone who is reading this. I'm always looking for feedback, so by all means, if you have any, send it my way.


	14. Chapter 14

Surrounded by darkness, Max stirred before rolling over in bed in search of a more comfortable position. In the midst of doing so, the brunette felt her hand brush against someone lying on the other end of the bed. Initially confused by the unexpected presence, her eyes soon flung open having remembered that Victoria had slept across the hall that night. Not being able to discern the identity of her bedmate caused a momentary panic in the brunette. Desperate for information, Max scanned the surroundings for any indication as to the current time and location. Shortly thereafter, the brunette’s eyes came to a rest on a familiar horizon visible from the window, though the realization of which did little to calm her nerves.

Recognizing the distinct features of the skyline, Max was able to determine that her location was that of her parent’s house in Seattle. With her eye sight having adjusted to the light, the brunette remembered that the room was laid out very much like her dorm room had been, just minus the stuff she had brought with her to Blackwell. Considering the current location, the brunette thought that the most likely candidate to be her bedmate was Chloe Price. Or at least the brunette hoped that was the person hiding under the covers, otherwise she would have some serious questions. Feeling too awake to go back to sleep, Max attempted to get out of the bed without waking up Chloe, after noticing that it was still relatively early in the night. An effort that ultimately proved futile, as the brunette had forgotten about the cracked rib suffered in the accident. In the midst of the crawling out of the bed, Max clutched at her ribs at the sudden onset of pain. With her attention diverted from the task at hand, the brunette felt a knee slip off the side, causing her to collapse on the unsuspecting blue haired girl below.

_Smooth Max, smooth, the brunette thought to herself while trying to quickly get off of her bedmate._

“Max?” Chloe stammered out still half a sleep. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I just wanted to check the news coming out of Arcadia,” the brunette answered back.

After being released from the hospital, Max and Chloe had returned to Seattle along with Max’s parents. While the girls had been fortunate to escape the crash with relatively minor injuries, the most devastating wound wasn’t inflicted until after leaving the hospital. As a result of the crash, the entire cabin of the truck compacted, rendering the vehicle a total loss. All things considered, the blunette seemed to handle the loss of her truck well, although that fact could likely be attributed to more traumatizing events having taken precedence. Having been acquired while the blunette was in a dark place, the truck possessed value that could not be defined by traditional monetary measures. The battered old Ford F-150 pickup truck had been a symbol of her independence, her freedom, and most importantly, her ticket out of Arcadia Bay. Even though leaving the truck behind could potentially provide a measure of closure to both girls, as its presence would serve as a painful reminder of what had been lost in the wake of the storm, the blunette still had great difficulty in saying goodbye.

Having been abruptly pulled from a state of slumber, Chloe reluctantly decided in favor of joining the brunette on the couch. The blunette stumbled her way to the opposite side of the room, as Max searched for the TV remote before joining her friend. The brunette flipped through the channels before landing on K5 News, the Seattle NBC affiliate, as it was in the midst of segment on the storm. The screen was initially filled with an abundance of talking heads offering vary explanations as to the cause of the storm, with the only consensus among the group being that none of them had ever seen anything like it before.

“What’s most baffling of all is,” a K5 meteorologist began, “why the tornado dissipated almost immediately after reaching the edge of town.”

“Yeah…well I have a couple ideas…” Chloe muttered bitterly.

“Chloe…it’s not your fault,” the brunette interjected in an effort to subdue the increasing tension in the room. “It was my choice… I won’t let you blame yourself.”

“I know Max… this is just too much to deal with right now, but… it’s my fault you even had to make that choice.”

Eventually, the coverage moved on to show a colored map meant to indicate the damage inflicted on the town. Typically, the aforementioned visual aid is comprised of multiple colors; each one intended to be a representation of the condition in that particular area. Consisting predominantly of one color, the graphic was rendered largely ineffective due to the size of the storm, as there was very little to differentiate the extent of the damage in one area from another. Instead the graphic merely served as a means to accentuate the severity of the storm. The storms trajectory, indicated by the color red on the map, had taken it directly to Blackwell Academy before dissipating shortly after clearing the school. This resulted in a wide path of significant destruction right through the center of town.

“Yeah…yeah,” the punk girl muttered dismissively. “The whole town’s destroyed… what about survivors?”

“Chloe… I’m sure a lot of people made it...”

“And how the hell do you know that?” Chloe snapped in response, before the momentary measure of satisfaction turned to guilt, having recognized the outburst had been out of line. Subsequently, the blunette closed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath in an effort to alleviate stress before continuing. “Max… I’m sorry… I know what you’re trying to do.”

“I know… it’s okay,” the brunette replied while forcing a sympathetic smile to appear across her face.

With the tenuous situation defused, at least momentarily, the girls returned their attention to the television. Having covered the damage extensively, the coverage transitioned its focus to the recovery effort. While the center of Arcadia Bay had taken the brunt of the storm, the outlying regions had fared significantly better. Given that fact, rescue efforts had been able to establish an effective base of operations to coordinate the crisis response efficiently. Many of the town’s strongest buildings weathered the storm relatively well, as the National Guard had uncovered large groups of survivors in those locations. The primary challenge facing the rescue workers was navigating the residential areas which had sustained heavier damage. Therefore, the National Guard managed rescue a significant portion of the town’s populous.

“See…I told you,” the brunette teased before sticking her tongue out in a playful manner.

Garnering a chuckle in response, the blunette admitted, “Yeah…yeah… never doubt Super Max,” before returning the tongue gesture in turn.

With the girl she had been willing to sacrifice everything for sitting right next to her; Max found it impossible to focus on the news being reported on the television. The brunette had become captivated at the sight of her sitting next to her on the couch. Everything seemed so real, so vivid; she could even smell the girl across form her, a depressing mix of tears and cigarettes. While in a state of disbelief, she blinked several times half expecting the blunette next to her would disappear. Despite this being the third time she had experienced this, Max had come no closer to being accustomed to it. Disregarding the considerations over the pretense of this vision, the brunette felt herself grow bold. If it was really Chloe sitting across from her, she knew exactly what she would want to do. Seeing no better moment than this one, she reached out and grasped the blunettes’ hand before waiting intently for her reaction.

Regardless of whatever Max had been expecting, the subsequent reaction proved to be a rather underwhelming. In response to the brunette holding her hand, Chloe offered a slight smile before returning focus to the television. Feeling rather dejected, Max shifted closer to the other girl to rest her head on the punks shoulder, before beginning to draw the outline circular spiral, starting in the center and expanding outward on the girls thigh. Returning their attention to the television, the coverage had shifted its focus to the cleanup efforts that had been underway. By the afternoon after the storm, the National Guard had been dispatched to secure the area and set up temporary shelters for any survivors. Now transitioning the coverage from in the studio to on location; the local reporter on scene, Maggie Maggenhall, had begun an interview with the sergeant leading the National Guard in their efforts to aid the recovery effort. During which, the coverage remained fixated on the interview until transitioning to some background shots of the damage.

Abruptly the brunette’s head became dislodged as Chloe suddenly leaned toward the television. Caught off guard by the sudden change of position, Max paused momentarily, before pulling back to examine the blunette’s body language. The punks’ eyes were wide open, staring at the screen, and her complexion had whitened significantly.

“Chloe… what’s wrong?”

The brunette’s question fell upon deaf ears as shortly thereafter, Chloe broke down sobbing. Frantic, Max quickly turned to the television before seeing what had caused the breakdown. Displayed on screen was a heavily damaged building, surrounded by debris consisting of; pieces of twisted metal and scorched wood, which the rescue workers were forced to clear in order to gain access to the interior of the structure. Slowly, as the camera began to pull back, the outline of a neon sign was revealed, making it possible to discern what the building had been prior to the storm. Buried amongst the wreckage stood what remained of the Two Whales diner. Having witness the fate of the occupants first hand, the image of the blown out diner didn’t have the same effect on Max. Whereas Chloe was witnessing the scene for the first time, having only known that Joyce had died at the diner.

“She was in there, wasn’t she?” the blunette asked after taking a moment to wipe the tears from her face.

“Chloe… I’m so… so sorry…”

“It’s all my fault,” Chloe lamented, tears having returned, “after Dad died… I was so angry… so selfish…”

“No… no it’s not…” the brunette interjected, “Chloe… please don’t…”

“Why am I still here?” Chloe stated, staring intently at the brunette. “Huh Max, why me? My Mom deserved hella better than to die in an explosion at the fuckin’ diner.”

“What about you Chloe?” Max replied, returning the blunette’s gaze. “What about what you deserve? Did you deserve to lose William… have your best friend abandon you?”

“I already had too many chances…” the blunette uttered with a sigh before relenting. “Max… what am I supposed to do now?”

“You do something with this chance Chloe… for Joyce…. For everyone,” the brunette pleaded.

“…and for you?” Chloe interjected coyly, before flashing half a smirk.

“I think I’d be okay with that…”

Not wanting to have any regrets if this was the last time she was to be here, Max cleared her throat before opening her mouth to speak.

“Chloe…I,” the brunette started before suddenly finding herself at a loss for words.

Max may have not been able to find the words to express the sentiment she trying to convey, but her nerve remained unaffected. If not through words, than the brunette would just have to let Chloe know through her actions how she felt in that moment. With the blunette having turned her attention to her, Max smiled at her before using the back of her fingers to wipe away what remained of the tears on her check. After bracing herself for a moment she had been anticipating for quite some time, Max slowly leaned in to kiss the taller girl. Relieved by the fact that Chloe had begun to lean in as well, the two were a moment before a kiss before something on the television caught their attention.

“Next, I want to talk to someone who has been critical as the recovery process gets underway, David Madsen,” the Maggenhall said prior to the camera shifting its focus to a rather disheveled looking man.

“David’s alive?” Chloe said while quickly turning to face the television.

“Thank god,” Max exclaimed before throwing her arms around the blunette, the moment of their near kiss having since been forgotten. “He must’ve been at the bunker when the storm hit, that’s probably the best place anyone could’ve been at.”

Unable to find any words, Chloe just held the brunettes’ embrace as she began to sob. Realizing that this moment required no words, Max just returned the taller girl embrace to comfort her as best she could.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max returns to Blackwell...

** Chapter 15 Mon 14th morning **

Thoughts of trepidation filled Max Caulfield’s mind, while pouting over the realization that classes resumed today at Blackwell Academy, as the alarm clock turned on signaling the start of the day. Mentally preparing for the worst, the brunette jumped out of bed to observe the scene on campus. With news of Nathan’s suicide being release, the expectation had been that the campus would be crawling with reporters looking for a story. Pleasantly surprised by the lack of trespassers visible outside, Max stepped out into the hallway to head to the showers and get ready for the day.

Once inside, Max spotted Kate brushing her teeth. “Hey Kate,” Max greet her friend with a smile.

“Morning, Max,” Kate replied while returning the smile.

As Max was about to enter the shower, Kate’s voice stopped her from entering.

“Hey, Max… I know it’s none of my business,” Kate paused clearly puzzled by the fact that the two of them had become so close, “… but what is going on with you and Victoria? You don’t like her right? I mean… how could you like someone that could post that video?”

“Kate… it’s not like that,” Max replied, immediately feeling guilty for lying. “Look… I know it’s weird after how we were, but… we’re both going through a hard time right now. Kate…we both feel responsible for what happened.”

_It was basically the truth, Max thought, except for the whole “it’s not like that” part._

“What…why?” Kate asked while genuinely confused.

“We…we could’ve saved them…either of us,” the brunette answered meekly, suddenly unable to keep her eyes off the floor.

“Max, there’s no way either of you could’ve known what would happen.”

“I abandoned her, Kate…I abandoned her when she needed me the most,” Max confessed, having lost the ability to placate the emergence of tears. “Because…because I was afraid…we got into this huge fight after…”

“Max, it’s not your fault…Chloe made her own choices. The same goes for Victoria.”

“She saw the signs… knew he was unstable, she blames herself for not getting him help before it was too late. We know it’s not our fault, but we blame ourselves for not saving them from themselves.”

The two talked for a little longer after that before Max was convinced that Kate had bought her story. Kate wasn’t one to gossip, but the last thing Max wanted was word going around the school that the two of them were together.

 

Ready for the day, having showered and gotten dressed, Max waited for Victoria outside the latter’s dorm so they could walk to class together. Rather than equip the usual armor, Max decided to switch it up a bit for the first day back. Forgoing the usual deer related tank top and grey hoodie, in favor of a black t-shirt and camo jacket, and standard blue jeans for a pair of frayed grey jeans. Deciding in favor of a small measure of consistency, Max elected to keep her usual Converse All Stars, in addition to the lack of a second option. Eventually, Victoria stepped out into the hall to find a small brunette with an annoyed look on her face. Standing before the blonde, Max couldn’t help but shake her head at the tall blonde as she stood before her. Victoria had been done up to perfection, to which one would expected no less, but to refer to the girls look as perfection somehow didn’t quite seem adequate.

Victoria maintained a classy look about her. After having thought about it, Max couldn’t remember one time where Victoria had even moderately revealing. Even dressing modestly, the blonde managed to look sexy without having to wear revealing clothing. She wore a burgundy sweater cut perfectly to fit her frame with a collared shirt underneath. The rest of her outfit comprised out a tight black skirt with tights underneath that hugged her curves perfectly and highlighted her long legs. The whole ensemble was topped off with flawless hair and makeup.

“What?” Victoria asked, “This doesn’t just happen,” she said while gesturing from head to toe, “this takes a lot of work.”

“Mm-hmm,” Max hummed in reply not bothering with words before the pair began walking toward the exit.

“See you’re lucky you can dress like that at school, if I showed up like that people would think I was depressed,” Victoria replied as she looked back at Max with a smirk on her face.

“Oh, is that it?” the shorter girl asked sarcastically.

Continuing with their playful banter, the girls stepped out of the dorms before taking the sidewalk to the main building of Blackwell Academy. On their way, the reason for the lack of reporter on campus became abhorrently apparent. Being a private institution, Blackwell had exercised their right to ban reporters from the school grounds. That ban, combined with the fact that additional security had been brought in as a precaution measure, in the event they were needed to keep the reporters form harassing the students. That didn’t stop the reporters from being stationed on the street in front of the school however.

While on approach to the front entrance, one of the reporters spotted Max and took off in a beeline straight toward her. Barely managing to take notice, a microphone was already in her face by the time the brunette recognized the reporter in question was Maggie Maggenhall.

“Maxine! Maxine Caulfield! Just a few questions please… since you flaked on our interview!”  

“Max… never Maxine,” the brunette asserted, after wincing at the sound of her full name. Taken by surprise over the intrusion, the brunette could only address the affront towards her namesake before Ms. Maggenhall had begun the barrage of questions.

“Ms. Caulfield, now that Nathan Prescott has been found dead… are you concerned the Prescott’s legal team will use this as a means to mitigate public opinion in regard to the case?

“Uh…” Max mumbled out in the form of a rebuttal. Seemingly oblivious to the lack of substantive answer, Maggenhall quickly moved on to the next question.

“There are rumors suggesting Mr. Prescott’s death was a result of neglect on the part of the ABPD, what do you have to say on the allegations that they wanted the situation to disappear?”

“Well… I’m not…” the brunette attempted to answer, but before Max could continue, someone had moved between herself and the reporter.

 “I’ve had enough of your disingenuous assertions,” Victoria snapped at the reporter before closing the gap between them.  

Seemingly in slow motion, Max had been relegated to the role of bystander as the scene unfolded. As the blonde approached the reporter, Max realized that the real world equivalent of a Mass Effect style renegade prompt had taken place. Immediately after finishing the proclamation, Victoria pulled a fist back before connecting directly on the right of the reporters jaw, dropping the women simultaneously.

Startled, Max jumped back a step before noticing David had just arrived on the scene.

“Damn paparazzi,” the head of security said, chastising the women. “This is private property. I came over here to intervene…but it looks like she’s got things pretty well handled,” David finished with a laugh.

“David?” Max asked as though it were a questions. “Thanks… but I thought you were on leave.”

“Hey Max,” he replied smiling at her as another security officer escorted Mr. Maggenhall off the school grounds. “I was…but I had to follow Joyce’s lead and get my ass back to work. I was going crazy sitting around the house all day.”

The two talked briefly for a bit after Ms. Maggenhall had been escorted off the property. The conversation predominantly consisted of pleasantries before David brought up details regarding Chloe’s funeral. After receiving a confirmation of attendance from the brunette, David excused himself, allowing the girls to proceed to class while he returned to work. Making their way to the entrance, Max hoped that after the incident with the reporter, the worst part of the day was now behind her.

After the hysteria that had concluded the brunette’s morning had subsided, the day proceeded relatively free of incident. As expected, the topic of conversation amongst the students and faculty centered predominantly on Nathan’s suicide. However, it had been the context of the conversations that had left Max slightly taken aback. The student body seemed to have a wide range of opinions on the news. There were those that were genuinely saddened by the news, while others had felt that he had gotten off easy by no longer having to face trial. What surprised Max was the callousness and contempt manner in which some had spoken of Nathan. While able to understand the sentiment, the brunette was trying to keep some semblance of compassion in spite of everything she had been through.

On her way to lunch, Max happened across Principle Wells, who motioned her over to speak with him. The brunette had to suppress the urge to merely flip him off, as a measure of blame fell squarely on the principles shoulders, but Wells still had a tremendous amount of influence over her scholarship. Something which, given the option, Max would very much like to hold on to. So with gritted teeth, the brunette turned and approached the man, trying to not let the contempt she felt manifest itself visual on her face.

_What the hell does he want, Max wondered as she approached._

“Hi Max, I just wanted to check up on you,” Wells began seemingly sincere. “You look a little stressed out, how are you handling things?”

“It’s just been a rough day, that’s all,” Max replied already tiring of the conversation. “Just being back here for the first time…it’s drawing a lot of things to the surface.”

“I’m sorry about what happened that day Max,” Wells interjected, “It has always been our mission to ensure the safety of every student here at Blackwell. We are just as heartbroken over the tragedy that occurred last week.”

“Well… maybe you should’ve thought of that when you were covering for Nathan so you could keep that Prescott money rolling in.” Max snapped back her patience having worn out.

“Excuse me Max?” Wells responded, clearly taken aback by her outburst. “We couldn’t have foreseen that something like this could’ve happened.”

“Bullshit!” the brunette countered, earning a gasp from Wells. “The signs were there, you just didn’t want to see them! I know what you did,” Max continued, the fire now visible in her eyes. “Every incident reported by teachers or students was kept off his record, to keep Sean Prescott happy. Anyone who spent more than five minutes with Nathan could tell he was unstable. So what happened that day is partially on you!”

Unbeknownst to Max, a crowd of people had begun to form around them captivated by the scene unfolding before them. Wells, having noticed the crowd, suddenly realized the need to defend not only himself but Blackwell from her accusations. Of course, Wells wasn’t privy to the fact that Max and Chloe had searched his office in the other timeline, and had uncovered substantial evidence of his role in the cover-up.

“Now hold on Max,” Wells shouted, his anger now getting the better of him. “There was nothing to suggest that Nathan was capable of something like that. If there had been, we would’ve taken steps to prevent such a tragedy from happening.”

“You’re so full of shit Wells,” Max countered having had enough of his excuses. “Someone could’ve told you he had a gun and you still wouldn’t have done shit. Hell you probably would’ve accused them of making false accusations against one of “Blackwell’s most honored students.”

Having now noticed the crowd that had formed, Max had begun to feed off of their presence. Her courage bolstered, the brunette decided to go for his jugular.

“Hell even if you had seen Nathan with a gun, you wouldn’t have done anything to piss off the Prescott’s. They fucking owned you Wells, Sean Prescott had his hand so far up your ass you were like his ventriloquist dummy.

“Max…I never…” was all that Wells was able to stammer out for a rebuttal clearly at a loss for words over the confrontation with Max.

“What? You’re worried someone’s going to take the fall for what happened?” Max replied cutting him off before staring a hole through the principle. “Well you should be… because that person is going to be you.” Max finished, making no attempt to disguise the threat in her voice.

With that, Max turned and left the principle in a state of disbelief over what had just taken place, leaving him to face the crowd that was now staring intently back at him. After initially considering the use of her rewind, which would have been the more tactically sound decision, she decided against it. The brunette wanted people to question his involvement in what happened; wanted him to feel the pressure for the role he played. As Max made her way through the crowd she felt the eyes of those staring at her in reverence of what she had done. Several people even wanted to give her high fives, to which she graciously accepted, knowing full well the pain of being left hanging.


	16. Chapter 16

** Chapter 16 Mon 14th - Afternoon **

As Max progressed through remainder of her Monday classes, a consistently increasing level of anxiety slowly began to percolate in her mind. Since this was the first day back, there was very of what could be considered an actual lecture. Classes had consisted mostly of discussion over what had happened, while giving people an opportunity to share, which Max promptly declined at every opportunity. But serving as a weight on the brunette’s mind was the knowledge that with each turn of the clock, the prospect of coming face to face with Mr. Jefferson drew closer. Merely the sight of the man from a distance had been enough to make her skin crawl earlier that day; therefore significant doubt existed as to whether Max would be able to endure the man’s presence for one and a half hours.

Eventually, the hour was at hand, indicating that and Max could no longer delay the inevitable. Traversing through the door and back to the usual table, the brunette gave Victoria a slight wave before being pleasantly surprised at the gesture reciprocated in turn. Although, the moment had signaled a shift in the dynamic between them publically, she and Victoria weren’t exactly skipping down the halls, joining hands in announcing that they were… whatever they were. Prior to the resumption of classes, the girls had agreed to keep things quiet for now, as neither of them wanted to bring undue attention upon themselves. Despite that agreement, Max couldn’t deny a sense born of insecurity that Victoria didn’t want to be seen with her. Recognizing the energy could be better exerted elsewhere, the brunette switched focus to more pressing matters after acknowledging the folly of such thoughts.

At that moment the bell rang, and Mr. Jefferson stepped into the classroom causing Max’s anxiety level spiked from a six to a ten. The Jefferson in this timeline instilled the same reaction in the brunette as the iteration from the original timeline had. The man still carried himself with an abundant level of smugness, while maintaining the look of a middle aged hipster in his sport coat and black and white framed glasses. Despite the jump in anxiety caused by the man’s arrival, the brunette had been ill prepared for a subsequent jump occurring after Jefferson had addressed the class.

“Welcome, everybody. Listen… it’s been a tough week for everyone.” Mr. Jefferson paused to apply his most reassuring voice. “I know. Lame as it sounds, life has to go on.”

The formerly idolized photographer’s words set off a fire within Max. The notion of Jefferson remaining free to continue his escapades, while Chloe was currently waiting to be buried caused the anger to swell within the brunette. Seated in the back of the classroom, all the bitterness from a few days ago began to resurface in regard to the unjust nature of life. In a moment of clarity, Max noticed the parallel in the dilemma she was facing. The brunette was fully aware of the necessity to move on, but the task was rendered rather difficult by the massive obstacle preventing her from doing so. The preventative measure in question, which was becoming an obsession, was to ensure that those responsible for Chloe’s death were held accountable.

Mr. Jefferson’s words were met by silence from the entire class. Disappointed by the subdued reaction, he let out a sigh before moving on.

“As much as I am sure you were all looking forward to the lecture on chiaroscuro after it was postponed last week,” he paused again expecting a slight chuckle to reverberate throughout the class. Frowning at the lack of response, he continued undeterred, “I thought we’d do something a little different today as we ease back into the swing of things.”

Shortly after Mr. Jefferson had begun speaking, Max was forced to tune out the sound of the man’s voice to the best of her ability. Having uncovered the heinous acts inflicted on both herself and others, Max couldn’t even stand to look at him. Couple by an innate desire to not draw any undue attention, the brunette had to act as though she wasn’t aware of the depth of the photography teacher’s insanity. With the class being unbearable, Max had found a distraction by writing and drawing in her journal until her ears picked up that the class had fallen silent. Afraid to look up, she eventually had to force her head to tilt upwards to the sight of the entire class, along with Jefferson, staring back at her. The looks on the faces of the other students varied about how she would’ve expected them to; as a few seemed amused by the apparent absent mindedness, while most looked confused. Victoria was the lone outlier as the only one to have her eyes locked on Max with a look of genuine concern.

“Max?” Mr. Jefferson asked. “Max?” repeating himself, now confused.

“What?” Max replied, realizing that is was 2:37 and had completely checked out for over five minutes.

“Uh… Are you okay?” Jefferson responded now clearly confused. “Max, I was just wanted to say how sorry I am about what happened last week and that I’m here for you if you need to talk. About anything, about what happened or… your portfolio, my doors open.”

“Screw that….” Max stammered out without thinking. “You’re the last person I’d talk to.”

In a state of disbelief over the callous nature of the brunette’s response, the entire class gasped before turning in anticipation of Jefferson’s rebuttal. Realizing she already lost her shit, Max decided to blow off some steam before rewinding back. Having gathered her things, the brunette stood up to make her way to the exit before Mr. Jefferson stepped in front of her to stop her.

“Hey, hold on Max,” Mr. Jefferson interjected with a clear look of annoyance. “I know it’s been a rough week for you, but you can’t just get up and walk out of class.”

Max steadied herself as she tried to maintain her composure, but she was unable to hide the distain in eyes as she looked back at him before replying.

“I wasn’t looking for permission,” Max said flatly before walking right up to Mr. Jefferson to punch him right in the nose. “Fuck you,” Max shouted having completely lost her composure. “That was for Chloe!”

Having caught Mr. Jefferson completely by surprise, the punch knocked him completely off his feet before dropping him to the floor. Able to do nothing other than sit there and look up at Max in utter shock, the class fell silent so quickly as to hear a pin drop before erupting in response to what Max had done. She took a moment to take in the reactions around her as Mr. Jefferson’s reaction turned to rage. Most students were still in a state of disbelief at the fact that Max Caulfield of all people just punched Mr. Jefferson, although a few managed to find words that summed up the consensus on what had just happened.

“Max!” Victoria shouted, “Why did you..?”

“Damn Max,” Hayden remarked, unable to mask his disbelief, “what the shit?”

As the satisfaction over what she had done began to fade to be replaced by guilt, Max concentrated and held up her right hand to rewind time. With the events of the past few minutes rewinding back like an old VHS tape, Max decided to go back to the point before she had lost her composure.

“Max?” Mr. Jefferson asked. “Max?” He repeated himself, now confused.

“I….” Max stammered, “I can’t handle this… I need to leave”

As Max got up to exit the room, the adrenaline from the outburst began to dissipate, while tears started to form in the corners of her eyes. Prior to reaching the exit, the sensation of being on the verge of crying had reached a breaking point within the brunette. Realizing she couldn’t contain her emotions any further, Max jogged the last few feet to the door. Filled with concern, Victoria debated giving chase after the girl, but something stopped her. It was her old insecurities, anyone on their floor in the dorms knew that something was going on between them, but fear over what the reaction would be if the word got out kept her firmly in her seat. The realization of this brought her shame; although Victoria hoped Max would understand as they had agreed to not advertise their relationship. Max needed her and she knew it, but her insecurities, her immature desire to maintain the image she had worked hard to create kept her from doing so.

When Max went back to create this timeline, she brought back with a weight. One that had begun to inflict an increasing presence on her as the days went by. As much as she felt that this was her burden to bear alone, at this point Max no longer felt like she could. Max had become desperate, knowing full well that she wouldn’t be able to do this on her own for much longer. It had happened that moment in class, with Mr. Jefferson’s words about life having to go on. It was that moment in that Max become overwhelmed by the trauma of the last week and the pressure she was putting on herself to resolve it. She wanted to run, she wanted to disappear, or at least a place to hide. In the midst of running down the main corridor of the academy, Max looked back, hoping to see a blonde girl in pursuit. She hadn’t remembered the last time she felt as alone as she did in that moment, standing in the hallway of Blackwell Academy hoping to see someone that she realized wasn’t coming.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Victoria have a little talk.

** Chapter 17 - Monday, October 14th 4:35 **

A tall blonde stood before dorm room 219; afraid to knock, while attempting to discern the extent of the damage done to their relationship. The brunette had clearly become overwhelmed by the prospect of returning to the photography lab, and had to excuse herself to avoid breaking down in front of the whole class. Victoria had the intent of pursuing the brunette, but insecurities squandered any vestige of such after consideration was given in regard to the reaction of her peers. Eventually deciding to remain in class for the duration; she now stood in front of the brunette’s door, afraid that she had messed up, afraid that Max wouldn’t forgive her, and afraid that this wouldn’t be the last time her insecurities got the better of her.

Victoria had spent much of her pubescent life crafting the queen bitch persona. Therefore, the blonde had come to rely on the facade; as it had been employed to prevent others from baring witness to any aspect deemed unacceptable.  In doing so, the softer side of her character had been suppressed in favor of a callous outlook or at least until she met Max. Most distressing to the blonde was the inescapable fact that in a moment of truth; despite swearing to the opposite, a choice between her public persona and someone she cared about resulted in favor of the former. Disappointed over her inaction, the moment replayed in the blondes mind as she desired a second chance at the decision.

***Buzz… Buzz***

Startled by the abruptness in which her phone sounded, Victoria reached for her phone.

**Max:** So… how long are you going to stand there?

Startled by the contents, the blonde’s eye’s darted from side to side as if expecting to discover the brunette in hiding. Audibly chuckling in means of acknowledging her own embarrassment, Victoria’s attention returned to the door blocking her path. Deciding to avert any further awkwardness, she let out sigh before mercifully knocking on the door. In the brief moment before the brunette answered, she became frantic at the thought that she had left. Victoria knew that she had messed up, but was also determined to make it up to Max if provided the opportunity. Eventually the door slowly cracked open to reveal the small brunette peering out into the hallway.

Not waiting for Max to say anything, words started to fly out of the blonde’s mouth.

“Max, I’m… sorry,” the blonde began, her words only partially conveying the desperation she was feeling. “Can I come in?”

With a meager nod, Max opened the door to allow the blonde entry. As she made her way into the brunette’s dorm, Victoria’s level of guilt only increased after seeing the state of the dorm. The room was largely dark, as Max had shut the blinds on the windows. The only source of light in the room was the string of paper lanterns that hung above the bed. It was a stark contrast to the usual subdued hipster vibe that typically filled the room. Upon reaching the center, the blonde determined that Max had likely been lying on bed, with the pillow covered in what were assuredly tears. After taking a deep breath, Victoria moved to sit down on the bed before motioning for Max to do the same.

“I’m sorry Max; I know I should have gone after… I just…I just let…”

Before the blonde could finish, Max just whispered that it was okay after resting her head on the other girls shoulder. Victoria could tell that Max was hurt by the fact that she hadn’t gone after her. Unable to just let it go, the blonde had to tell Max why she hadn’t given chase.

“I just spent so much effort creating this persona and… the thought of giving it up… of everyone… It was just too much.”

“It’s okay V, really.”

“No it’s not,” the blonde protested, “I knew you needed me and I wasn’t there for you because I was too scared of what people would think. I told you I didn’t care about that, but when it actually came down to it… I froze.”

Eventually, the two were able to move past Victoria’s guilt after the blonde had reiterated the extent of her moral dilemma conundrum quarry on numerous times. Each time trying to explain why it had been so difficult for her to follow in pursuit, after struggling to comprehend how the brunette could be so understanding in response. Having cleared that hurdle, the conversation shifted its focus to what happened to Max in class earlier.

“So… what happened in class today? Do you want to talk about it?” Victoria asked as if pleading with the brunette. After which, the blonde then reached out to grab Max by the hand before turning to face the other girl. Immediately taking note, her heart sank, at the sight of tears dripping down the brunette’s cheeks.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Max managed to get out before starting to sob.

“Max… It’s okay, you can tell me,” Victoria pleaded, “I promise I won’t laugh… or judge you.”

Max decided to tell Victoria everything, or rather mostly everything, having decided that there were some details that Victoria didn’t need to be subjected to. After the setbacks experienced thus far, the obligation to set things right had encumbered the brunette to the point she could no longer carry on alone. As much as Max felt it was her responsibility to shoulder, she knew continuing to go at it alone would eventually crush her. After considering the two options; Max decided to explain her powers before getting into the incredulous back story. Eventually, deciding in favor of flatly asserting her ability to rewind time rather than attempt to ease into the topic. The conversation went about as well as one could expect when telling someone that you had a super power. In fact, Victoria’s reaction was remarkably similar to the last time she told this story. Drawing a parallel to Chloe’s reaction, Max smiled, having briefly reflected on the memory.

_“Like I said,” Max inferred reminded, “not crazy.”_

_“But, high?” Chloe responded in the form of a question._

Throughout the rather lengthy explanation, Max struggled to suppress a laugh at the progression of facial expressions on the blondes face. Like Chloe, Victoria had tried to be understanding, and to her credit never once called bullshit on the whole story, but the skepticism was plain to see on her face. Of course as it had been with Chloe, a measure of proof would be required. After all, Max wouldn’t expect anyone to believe such a tale without. While considering how to best offer proof, Max thought back to how she convinced Chloe. Subsequently, the brunette admonished herself internally over what she considered to have been lackluster demonstrations.

_Predicting someone dropping a cup, telling Chloe how much change she had, Max recounted to herself. Come on Max you could’ve done better than that._

Promising a more elaborate demonstration this time; Max decided to try a different approach before settling on her camera after a quick of the room.

“Alright Victoria,” the brunette began with a mischievous smile on her face, “I’ll prove it to you. I’m going to make my camera jump across the room.”

“Okay… well let’s see it.” Victoria sighed, after deciding to just play along for the moment. It wasn’t that she thought Max was lying; rather more concerned that her friend was losing her mind. “Alright Max… impress me.”

“Oh, I will,” Max replied with a suspiciously large grin. “Okay, take a good look at the camera on my desk. I’m going to make it appear in my hands.”

Unable to suppress a reflexive roll of the eyes, Victoria simply nodded before holding out her hands as a gesture to indicate her readiness for the demonstration to begin. Arriving on her feet, Max couldn’t help but consider the thoughts currently coursing through the blonde’s mind as she traversed the short distance across the room. Acknowledging the likelihood of her actions appearing to be certifiably insane, a subdued chuckle escaped the brunette’s mouth after considering how the display would appear to an outside perspective. Emphatically stating an idea as abstract as time travel, would give pause to anyone that possessed even a semblance of common sense. Having obtained the camera in question, Max made eye contact with Victoria to ascertain some idea on how the latter had responded to the display thus far.

“Okay, just wait,” Max interjected in response to the blonde’s body language, while returning to the couch.

Still laughing to herself, which only served to further call question to her sanity, Max held up a hand before concentrating to return to the point immediately prior to making her intentions known. Afterwards, releasing the grip on time, the brunette braced for the disbelief that was assuredly forthcoming before glancing toward the other girl as her vision came back into focus.

“What the shit?” Victoria shrieked whilst backing further into the couch. “How did you…” she continued before allowing her voice to trail off.

“I told you,” Max replied with a straight face, “I can rewind time. I said I was going to make the camera teleport… then I stood up, walked over to it… you totally should’ve seen the look on your face by the way,” Max paused to give Victoria a chance to process before continuing, “Then I just sat down, rewound… and waited for your response.” Acting as though the assertion was entirely logical, Max sat in anticipation of the blonde’s reaction.

“What the fuck?” Victoria mumbled, a sentiment directed toward herself as much as Max. “I… I can’t process this right now.”

“Here… I’ll show you something else,” Max interrupted, now concerned that deciding in favor of a more elaborate demonstration had been an error in judgment. “Hold on, in a second you will get a text from me.”

Attempting to convey reassurance through her eyes, Max reached for the phone to send a brief message, before rewinding back once again. During which, the brunette’s phone remained tight in her grasp, preventing the text message from being undone during the course of the rewind. Replicating the aftermath of the initial demonstration, after resuming time, Max waited patiently for the blonde to process what had just transpired. As if on cue, Victoria’s phone went off a moment later before hesitantly reaching to reveal the contents of the message.

Max: I’m sorry, is this too much to handle?

“Yeah,” Victoria stated, having taken a moment to gather her thoughts prior to continuing. “It’s a bit much to take in.”

Having realized that the demonstrations were too outlandish to serve as an initial introduction, Max decided to try a different approach intended to replicate the success with Chloe. After rewinding to a point prior to any demonstrations attempts had been considered, Max stood up and extended a hand to the blonde girl.

“Come on,” Max said with a smile, “let’s go for a walk.”

Initially hesitating at the look of mischief in the brunette’s eyes, Victoria eventually clasped the outstretched hand before rendering herself vertical. After Proceeding into the hallway, the pair moved toward the exit, hands still firmly clasped. As they neared the entrance to the stairs, Dana and Juliet emerged into the hallway from the formers dorm room, their eyes immediately fixating on the other girl’s adjoined hands. Taking note of the sheepish expression on the blonde’s face through peripheral vision, Max rewound back after realizing they hadn’t shown affection to that extent in public. So with a moment of concentration and a raise of her right hand, time slowly ticked back to before the other girls had entered the hallway. Releasing her grip on time, Max glanced over to see Victoria staring back with a look of disbelief on her face.

“Max…” the blonde muttered, clearly unable to form a more coherent thought.

Initially confused by the reaction, it took Max a moment to process what could have Victoria to have that reaction. After a moment of thought, she realized the most likely explanation of the blonde’s demeanor.

“V…did you see that?” the brunette inquired hesitantly.

“Your rewind?” Victoria asked, as if the potential existed for the hipster to be referring to another matter. “I saw… I saw them go back into Dana’s room… I can’t believe it,” she continued grasping at straws. “It’s not that I thought you were lying… it’s just…”

“You thought I was crazy,” the brunette answered with a laugh.

At that moment, the door to Dana’s room swung open, bringing the conversation between the girls to a close. Seeing the cheerleader and reporter enter the hall, Max immediately dropped Victoria’s hand, having remembered the catalyst of this particular rewind. As the two emerged from Dana’s room, Victoria frowned at the brunette, seemingly offended that the treatment of her hand was akin to that of a hot potato. Without a word being spoken, the blonde took Max’s hand into her own, before nodding in the direction of the exit. Under the same gaze of intrigue, the girls traversed to the end of the hall, offering only a slight nod of acknowledgment to their onlookers. Having made their exit from the dorms, Max stopped before opening her mouth to speak.

“You didn’t have to do that… I get why you want to keep this a secret for now.”

“No… I did,” Victoria replied resolutely, “I meant what I said.”

Hearing the conviction in the blonde’s words, Max thought her heart could quite possibly burst over the gesture made on her behalf back in the dorms. Now exceedingly happy over the decision confide in Victoria, new avenues made available by this new facet of the rewind flowed through the brunette’s mind. If it was possible for someone to accompany the brunette during the rewind, then knowledge from those instances wouldn’t have to rest on one set of shoulders. The possibilities seemed endless, but Max pushed those thoughts aside for now, deciding to enjoy the blondes company, and the smile that came along with it.

“You wanna see what else we can do?” the brunette propositioned with a mischievous grin.


	18. Chapter 18

** Chapter 18 - Monday, October 14th – after 5:00 **

It may have taken a second attempt, but Victoria eventually got over the initial shock of the revelation of Max’s rewind ability. After testing the tandem rewind in the front courtyard of Blackwell, of which included requesting a tre flip demonstration from Trevor on more than one occasion, the two returned to the dorms and Max began detailing the experience of the last week. After reminiscing over the blondes initial reaction, Max decided to keep the story as light, and highlight the more humorous aspects as much as possible. During which, Victoria became enamored by the story, having long since lost any doubt that Max was telling the truth.

Deciding to spare the blonde some of the more gruesome details, the brunette focused on a cliff notes version of the events; primarily Rachel’s fate, and the darkroom. A recount that, ideally, would demonstrate the magnitude of the situation, while not running the risk of causing an adverse reaction from the recipient. Of particular note, Max made a concerted effort to avoid the whole part about the massive town eraser that was the storm. While it was a critical aspect of what had happened to her, it didn’t seem particularly relevant anymore as that danger had seemingly passed with Chloe. Speaking of which, the brunette included in the story given the blunette was the catalyst of the whole incident, but Max may or may not have omitted the whole falling love with your best friend part.

“Holy shit, Max,” Victoria said, as another piece of the puzzle clicked internally, “so you just got up… and clocked him in the face? Too bad you had to rewind it back.”

“Yeah… it did feel pretty good,” Max conceded, “but… getting arrested didn’t seem worth it at the time.”

“True enough, but it must’ve been close” Victoria replied with a laugh before turning serious again, “So Mr. Jefferson was just using Nathan the whole time?” Victoria continued, now scowling, her expression having changed entirely.

“Yeah, he was able to manipulate him… he knew Nathan hated his dad and… he used that.” Max sullenly confirmed.

“That piece of shit!” the blonde interjected with clenched fists.

“I think Nathan saw him as a father figure,” the brunette continued after placing a hand on the blondes back in consolation. “That’s why he took Rachel… he wanted to impress the psycho.”

“So what are we going to do?” Victoria mused aloud, feeling a measure of hopelessness, “What can we even do?”

“I have some ideas, but we can worry about that tomorrow,” Max reassured as best as she was able.

Having finished the story, Max couldn’t deny a sense that Victoria suspected there was more to the story than had been let on, but at least for the moment, didn’t seem intent on pressing the issue. Initially, convinced omitting some of the more gruesome details was a means of protecting the blonde, but later, Max realized that had been done primarily as a means of protecting herself. The brunette had become scared that Victoria would back away, that she would lose her, if it were the extent of her feelings for Chloe were known and the depths nearly sank to in order to save her. While thankful that the nature of their relationship would remain hidden for at least the moment, Max was ultimately afraid of the prospect of the issue cropping up in a rather inopportune moment.

Throughout the progression of the story, the pair was drawn together, eventually leading to hand holding and snuggling on the couch while Victoria did her best to follow along. Tears were shed on both sides, while the other did their best to offer consolation in the form of physical contact. After spending some time enjoying being in the presence of the other, Max broke their embrace before turning to face Victoria.

“Hey,” Max paused, suddenly scared to make eye contact, “I…I should head back to my room. You must have a ton of homework to do.” The brunette didn’t particularly want to leave, but also didn’t want to spoil the moment by overstaying her welcome. In a manner of speaking, the circumstances surrounding their relationship were similar to those between her and Chloe, as the progression of the relationship had been accelerated due to the extenuating circumstances that had been forced upon them. As a result, the brunette had become self-conscious over the notion of things moving too fast.

“Oh,” Victoria responded, having misinterpreting Max’s suggestion as her wanting to leave. “Yeah… okay, I have some homework I can do.”

“Okay… good,” Max continued, disappointed that Victoria didn’t tell her to stay. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

While externally, Max was looking around for her belonging, internally rather; her mind was in the process of berating herself over the perceived lapse in judgment.

_Stop! What the hell are you doing you idiot? She is clearly sad you’re leaving. Don’t go… ah; you’re going to be so pissed at yourself if you blow this._

Having gathered her things, Max turned her attention to the blonde, who was doing a poor job of hiding her thoughts on Max leaving. Arms crossed, Victoria stood with all of her weight placed on her right leg, rendering the girls posture poor, with an expression that looked as though she had just smelled something foul.

“Well Goodnight,” Victoria blurted out, trying to fill the silence that had since become uncomfortable.

“Goodnight,” Max replied with a smile. Having turned in approach of the exit, the brunette managed to find her courage while stopping prior to reaching the door. “Victoria,” Max paused, her sudden surge of confidence now waning, “I… I wanted to say… I’m sorry.”

Immediately puzzled by the sentiment, “What for,” Victoria inquired as the brunette began to approach.

Drawing close to Victoria, Max locked eyes with the taller girl after flashing a nervous smile. Suddenly unsure of the proper hand placement, the brunette shifted awkwardly before resting her left hand against her leg, while holding it still with the other clasped at the elbow. With the anticipation evident on the blondes face, it was clear both girls had been waiting for this moment. As Victoria stood, biting down her lower lip, the seemingly endless silence had begun to test the limits of her patience. After a brief pause to allow the tension to heighten the moment, Max opened her mouth to speak.

“For not doing this sooner,” the brunette blurted out, not sounding half as smooth as it had in her head, while grazing the back of her fingers down Victoria’s cheek. As soon as the words left she mouth, Max had stepped up on her tip toes right before leaning in to kiss the considerably taller girl.

Immediately taken by the kiss, Victoria eventually gasped after a few seconds, “It’s about damn time Caulfield!” The two girls immediately let out a giggle in unison before making their way to the bed.

 

“What the hell, Max?” Victoria asked in faux disbelief, “Did you have any idea how much that sweater cost? Do you know how hard it is to get paint out?” Victoria managed to get out while gasping for air.

Max just burst out laughing at the theatrics of Victoria reaction before saying, “well… you kind of had it coming.” After the two had spent the better part of an hour kissing on her bed, those were the first words to come out of her mouth and Max adored her for that.

“You bitch,” Victoria shouted as she pushed Max playfully before climbing on top of her and straddling her on the stomach.

After a quick glance, the room fell silent as each were mildly surprised at the position they were now found themselves in. With their eyes locked, they girl suddenly became aware of how fast their relationship had progressed tonight. The heightened awkwardness, coupled with uncertainty, continued to build before Victoria managed to speak first. As they sat in that position, both of their faces turned red as they blushed after abruptly breaking eye contact. For in that moment, each girl could feel the warmth radiating out from below their waists.

“Hey… maybe we should slow down a bit?”

Rather than think before responding, Max immediately blurted out, “Oh god yes.”

In the midst of the dismount, Victoria snickered before chiding in response, “Damn, don’t sound too happy about that.”

Initially taking the blonde’s response seriously, Max quickly tried to explain what she meant. “No…wait. I didn’t mean…” However, that was the extent of the rebuttal as Victoria could no longer hold back her smile, therefore revealing the remark to be a rouse. “You bitch!” the brunette yelled, as Victoria burst out laughing. “Oh you’re so going to pay for that!” she cried before lunging forward to commence a full scale tickle onslaught on the squeamish girl lying next to her.

“Wait, Stop!” Victoria squealed, “Damn you, I said no tickling!”

Subsequently, the two had managed to gracefully side step a land mine that could’ve resulted in the derailment of the remainder of the evening. As the tickling barrage ensued, Victoria’s screams could be heard from down the hall by Kate and Brooke as they were passing in the hallway. Interrupted by the outburst, each girl stopped before glancing at the other as if in search of affirmation of the noise echoing from the hipster’s dorm room. Nodding to each other in agreement, they shared a laugh over the absurdity of the situation, considering the prior dynamic between the two.  

Swept up by the excitement of a new relationship, Max was afforded a brief reprieve from the hardships that awaited tomorrow.


	19. Chapter 19

Max opened her eyes to find herself seated on a couch, located in a dark room. While scanning her surroundings, the brunette attempted to fumble her way through the darkness. Startled by a sudden flash of light, the room was subsequently occupied by the sound a piano before leading into an orchestra. Subsiding momentarily, the white spots in her vision faded, revealing the familiar Warner Bros. Pictures logo as it filled the screen. The brunette looked to her left to find an increasingly familiar sight, her partner in crime, Chloe Price. Smiling at the sight of the blunette, Max snuggled closer to the other occupant on the couch. Already having a fairly good guess as to the night’s entertainment, it came as no surprise to the brunette as the opening scene of Blade Runner filled the screen.

Paying more attention to the blunettes’ face than the movie itself, Max was captivated by the innocence in her expression as the picture from the screen was reflected on her face. The movie had been a favorite of theirs as kids, and watching now after everything that had happened, provided a welcome relief as it drudged up memories of a happier time. At the end of the first scene, Chloe noticed that the brunette had been staring at her rather than the movie. Max had put forth a valiant effort to play it off, but the trait of suave was nowhere to be found on her character sheet, and the effort could be described as clumsy at best, earning a laugh out of the blue haired girl.

“So what’s the over/under for when you fall asleep?” the blunette asked with her tongue firmly in check.

“Har-har,” the brunette countered before trying her best to be suggestive, “Maybe if I had a reason to stay up, I would…”

“Oh really,” the blunette responded coyly, “What do you have in mind?”

The two girls continued to trade in playful banter before settling back into the movie. Having seen the movie countless times, the brunettes’ mind began to wander. Eventually, thoughts drifted back to some of the previous times that the two had watched this movie. That line of thought eventually led to the recollection of the last time that they had watched it together, or at least the last time the brunette had watched it with another version of Chloe. Cursing her mind for bring up the memory, the thoughts of watching Blade Runner in the timeline in which William had been saved, but also inadvertently where Chloe had been paralyzed in a car accident, replayed through the brunettes mind.

The image in her mind was as clear in that moment, as it had been during its occurrence in real time. After saving William, and therefore altering the timeline, Max returned to the present to find herself at Blackwell, apparently as a member of the Vortex club. Having been taken aback by the changes between the timelines, the brunette simply got up and left, leaving her Vortex Club friends in shock. Able to think of nothing else, Max took the bus to Chloe’s before running the remaining distance to arrive as soon as she was able. While being initially relieved at the sight of William, nothing could have prepared her for the sight of her childhood friend rounding the corner in approach of the front door.

Able to do nothing but hold a hand to her mouth as if to prevent the wind from being knocked out her, Max watched helplessly as Chloe slowly wheeled herself toward her. In the moment, it took everything she had to not burst into tears on the spot over what had become of her best friend. The more time they were together, the worse Max felt as she had been overcome by a tremendous sense of remorse. Remorse that only become more pronounced after it became clear how happy Chloe had been to see her.

With the day drawing to a close; a day which to the brunette, could not fathom a more heartbreaking encounter, Chloe managed to take it up another notch as she made her final request. Chloe was dying and was fully aware of that fact; Joyce and William had attempted to keep that fact from their daughter, but the blunette had been able to piece together the bleak nature of the prognosis. Unable to envision of better sendoff then a final day with an old friend, the punk wanted to take control of the only thing that was left for her. Slowly building the argument, Max felt an increasing level of dread in her stomach as the blunette spoke, but had still been blindsided by the nature of the request. The final request was; the right to die on her own terms. One turn of the dial, one turn would be all that was needed to increase the morphine drip, therefore allowing Chloe to just slowly drift away. Having the luxury of the rewind, Max played out both outcomes before deciding to grant the last request.  Doing so tore her up inside, but the brunette had been convinced of the choice after recognizing the merit of honoring Chloe’s last wish. 

Unable to hold back the tears during the remembrance of that choice, Chloe eventually took note, as an audible sob had escaped the brunette’s mouth. Not wanting the remainder of the time with Chloe spent in consolation, Max immediately wiped the tears away in an effort to regain her composure.

“Max…? What’s wrong?” the blunette asked, before turning to sarcasm in an effort to raise the brunette’s spirits. “Well…besides all the obvious shit.”

The quip did garner a slight chuckle out of the brunette, much to the delight of Chloe, before offering up a response of her own.

“I was just thinking about the last time we watched this and…” the brunette said before pausing to choose her words carefully, “and how times where so much simpler back then.”

After which, the brunette offered a reassuring smile, before moving closer to Chloe. Not wanting to continue the line of questioning, to rest her head on the other girls shoulder as a means to suggest their attention return to the movie. Letting out a sign in resignation, Chloe settled back into the couch without another word.

Uncertain of the continuation of these nighttime excursions, Max decided an opportunity had presented itself that she could ill afford to waste. Summoning all of the courage she could muster, the brunette change positions to face the girl sitting opposite to her. Immediately ascertaining the brunette’s intention, Chloe had a sudden onset of nerves of her own as she tried to prepare mentally for what was coming. At the same time, Max extended a hand before using two fingers to turn the blunettes chin towards her. Unable to restrain herself any further, the brunette leaned forward and planted a kiss on the punk’s lips. After the initial wave of relief over the fact the kiss was mutual, they became wrapped up in the euphoria of the moment. As a damn giving way to a flood, the feelings they had suppressed ever since feeling Arcadia Bay poured out. Each became lost in the other, having completely shut out the world around them. For at least in that moment; nothing else mattered, to either of them.

 

**Bzzzz… Bzzzz… Bzzzz… Bzzzz**

Reluctantly, Max forced herself to pull away, only to see the blunette with a look of concern on her face, having been taken aback by the abrupt end to the intimacy.

“Why…Why’d you stop?” the blunette asked, suddenly afraid she had done something wrong.

“Sorry…it’s just the phone won’t shut up,” Max replied sounding as apologetic as she could before getting up to look for the phone. “Do you see it?”

“What…? I don’t hear anything… Max, are you okay?”

Clearly concerned by her sudden outburst, Chloe stood up to get a closer look at Max. Having realized where the sound was coming from, the brunette did her best to enjoy her last moments with Chloe. The blunette having reached her, she reached out her arm to her shoulder in an attempt to comfort the brunette. Before her touch, Max made eye contact with Chloe to offer her a sad smile as the contact caused her to be thrust awake back in her dorm room at Blackwell Academy.

Finding herself furious over the notion that her phone had pulled her away from Chloe, Max reached out to grab her phone before feeling incredibly guilty after noticing whom the sender of those messages had been.

**Victoria:** Hey Mad Max

**Victoria:** You better be up…

**Victoria:** We have to get ready and we both know you don’t have shit in your closet.

**Victoria:** So get over here and bring that sweet ass with you ;-*


	20. Chapter 20

** Chapter 20 Tues 15th 8ish **

Today was the day of Chloe’s funeral. Despite knowing the date ahead of time, the morning had hit like a freight train. Shuddering at the remembrance, Max recalled the last encounter with a train, although in that instance, it had been another in the path of another. Having stirred from the state of slumber, the hipster glanced into a mirror to find a look of contempt staring back after clearing the previous night’s eye gunk. A level of torment, further compounded by visions of the blunette, had been accruing in the brunette since dynamic changed in the relationship with the blonde. Promising to never forget the punk, Max felt a burden of quilt over the solace found in the arms of Victoria Chase. Taking note of the time, the brunette tried to push those thoughts from her mind as she forced herself out of bed before proceeding to knock on Victoria’s door.

Considering the content of her wardrobe, Max had relied on Victoria for appropriate attire to attend a funeral. In what came as a surprise to neither of them, Max did not in fact have a black dress, or anything funeral appropriate with her at Blackwell. Given the height difference, the brunette was fortunate to find something suitable. If the blonde had worn the dress, it would have been too short to be acceptable, but on Max it fit well enough at a suitable length. Initially reluctant toward the prospect of wearing the dress, Victoria had managed to convince the brunette to so.

“Gah, I’ll look ridiculous in this thing.” Max protested, “Besides it would look way better on you.”

“Right you are Max, but this is the only thing I have that’ll fit you.” Victoria paused before biting her bottom lip. “Tell you what… you wear the dress today… and I’ll wear it tonight when we get back. Sound fair?” Victoria asked unable to hide the smirk on her face.

“Yes, V,” was all Max could offer for a reply before heading to the shower to get ready. During which, the brunette struggled to not give credence to the smug look of satisfaction, that was assuredly plastered across the blondes face, over the suggestion bringing the conversation to an abrupt end.

 

More people had turned out to Chloe’s funeral than Max had expected. Of course, Joyce and David had family there, along with few students and faculty members, including Ms. Grant, from Chloe’s time at Blackwell had came to pay their respects. Principle Wells was also in attendance, much to Max’s irritation; although he did seem to make a concerted effort of avoid any interaction. Amused by the man’s cowardice, the brunette was convinced the reason for his attendance was the knowledge of how poorly his absence would reflect on him and the academy. Although, there did exist a possibility that their prior confrontation had instilled a measure of integrity in the man. In an effort to refocus, Max stood by the entrance with Joyce and David, greeting guests as they arrived, where she encountered several people whom she did not recognize. Most were from Chloe’s time at Blackwell; former students Steph Gingrich and Mikey North, along with a former security officer, Skip Matthews.

Quite the turnout for girl whose motto was, “Everyone cares, until they don’t.”

Chloe was so mad at the world for taking everything from her that she didn’t realize that there were still people that cared about her, Max thought, lamenting her contribution to the blunette’s downfall.

With the mourners beginning to file into the seats, Victoria approached Max to gauge the brunette’s state of mind had been coping with the day’s events thus far. “Hey, how are you doing?” the blonde asked, voice filled with compassion.

Max smiled before replying, “Better now… hey… thanks for coming today.”

Smiling at Max’s shyness, Victoria responded with, “How could I say no to that face?” After which she stuck her tongue out at Max.

The playful exchange provided Max a moment of reprieve, however brief, from the pressure of the funeral. That relief faded however, as it became time to start the procession as the minister approached the podium. As if on cue, the remaining people began in file in to the seats. The sermon was typical in nature; don’t mourn for a life lost, but rather, celebrate a life lived. Max didn’t particularly care for the sentiment, given the fact that it paid no homage to the trials faced in life. As the minister closed the sermon, the opportunity was presented for anyone else that wanted to speak. Joyce and David went first, although Max could barely hear what they were saying, being overcome with stress that she was the next to speak. A slight nudge from Victoria was needed to indicate that it was her turn to speak, as she had become consumed in thought. Slightly embarrassed that she had completely zoned out, Max forced herself to stand up and head to the front.

Approaching the podium, Max considered turning back after experiencing nausea nearing the point of vomiting, before begrudging taking the stage. Public speaking was never her forte, even without the added pressure of coping with the loss of a close friending. All things considered, being on stage was the last thing she should be doing, considering the level of anxiety the brunette had been enduring since resetting the timeline. But she was forcing herself to do this, mostly because only she knew what Chloe went through on what turned out to be her actual last days. As a result, it fell on Max to honor the sacrifice made by her best friend.

Daunted by the spectators staring back at her, Max initially struggled to find the words to begin.

“Chl… Chloe was… like a blue butterfly, she didn’t belong in Arcadia Bay. But like the blue butterfly, she’s moved on to a better place… she doesn’t have to struggle… doesn’t have to hurt anymore.  She’s finally free from Arcadia. But… her passing left behind a Chloe shaped hole on this town that can never be filled. She was my heart… my other half, my partner in crime and I was her,” the brunette continued, before taking a moment to collect herself, “... and we were supposed to take over the world together.”

“I can’t think of a better way to honor Chloe’s memory than to talk about her last days, perhaps with a few f bombs dropped in for good measure.” Max paused, while a subdued laugh rolled through the audience. “To be honest… Chloe got fucked.” The unexpected obscenity, taking the attendees by surprise, caused them to pull back slightly. Having achieved the desired reaction with the curse, the brunette offered a slight smile before resuming. “She didn’t deserve this… didn’t deserve any of it. But life just kept serving her one shit sandwich after another.”

“She lost so much…,” Max paused, struggling maintain her composure, “faced more shit than anyone should have to. But in the end, she was still Chloe,” Max paused, finding her smile at the thought of the blunette’s spirit, “still so vibrant, full of life. She had more than her share scars, but the weight of the world hadn’t broken her spirit completely.”

“I’ll always miss her; I’ll always love her, but in the time we shared together… she left her mark on me, and that will give me the strength I’ll need… to carry on in her memory,” Max continued, stopping to wipe the tears from her cheeks before noticing the majority of the audience doing the same.

“I’ll always be grateful for the time we had, but you always think there will be more time… that you could’ve had more time.”

“Our last moments together… changed my life forever.”

“It’s cliché to say that a person is never really gone, that they live on in our memories. But that doesn’t… that doesn’t seem quite good enough for Chloe, since she always had to go against the grain. It is with that sentiment in mind that I’ve decided how I’ll honor Chloe’s memory. From now on I’m going to ask myself, what would Chloe do,” Max paused a moment for further emphasis, “and then do the exact opposite!”

In response to the quip, the crowd let out a subdued laugh, drawing a frown from the brunette before shifting the back to a more serious tone. “But seriously… I’m going to step out of my comfort zone a little… relax… just a little… and see if I can find a bit a rebel in me.”

After affording a few more people the opportunity to share their memories of the blunette, the service began to wind down before moving on to the actual burial. Somberly awaiting for the casket to be lowered into the ground, the scene was just as horrific as Max had imagined. Initially able to maintain her composure, the sight of an inconsolable Joyce provided the slight nudge needed to open the flood gates for her own waterworks. Fortunately for the brunette, Victoria was there, as had been the case all day, providing a shoulder to lean on. A shoulder which Max would make frequent use of over the remainder of the day. With the majority of the attendee’s returned to their seats, only the audible sound of despair could be heard, as the ceremony got under way. The casket in place, Chloe Price was to be laid to rest next to her father, William Price. Wiping away tears, Max continued to sob after observing the epitaph engraved on the tombstone.

  _Chloe Elizabeth Price_

_1994-2013_

_Once met, never forgotten_

 With the casket in the ground, the attendee’s said their goodbyes before dispersing. Prior to departing, much to the surprise of Max, Victoria had asked for a moment alone at Chloe’s tombstone. After recovering from the momentary surprise, Max left the blonde to say her peace. Initially finding the experience to be awkward, the blonde was unsure why she was standing in front the tombstone alone. During their time at Blackwell together, they had become rivals of sorts and the blonde had been more than happy to see her go after the blunette’s expulsion. Suffice to say, that the two had not been friends, but Victoria felt she owed something to her former nemesis. Chloe had sacrificed herself to save her and the rest of Arcadia Bay, for which she was thankful. But the greatest reason that the blonde stood alone in prayer was that she had a promise to make. A promise to Chloe that she would always watch out for Max, always take of her. While realizing that she likely would never be able to fill the punk’s shoes, the blonde was determined to do the best that she could.

Having finished, Victoria turned to rejoin Max, but not before wiping a few tears from her eyes.


	21. Chapter 21

** Chapter 21 – Tuesday, October 15th - 5:00ish   **

After the funeral, several people decided to have dinner at the Two-Whales Diner. While initially reluctant to go, Max was later grateful that Victoria had convinced her to attend. What had initially started as a somber occasion; eventually turned festive, as people began to share stories on Chloe’s life. The stories ranged from her younger days as a rambunctious youth, to her later days as the punk rebel from hell. During which, Max became captivated by the stories, as the majority of them occurred during her time in Seattle. As a result, the brunette was offered a window to what Chloe’s life had been during that time.

Skip Matthews was the first share, with his story taking place after Chloe had gotten suspended from Blackwell.

“Chloe, man… she did not give a shit… in a good way though,” Skip laughed as he began. “I caught her sneaking into the dorms… the SAME day she got her ass suspended. So… she’s right at the door… and then I come walking out,” Skip paused while shaking his head. “So what does Chloe do? She tries to turn and run like the door wasn’t a huge window.”

“Yeah… you can see right into the building,” the brunette interjected with a laugh.

“Right… so I call her out and… now realizing she’s busted, she turns back to face me,” Skip continued, “Next thing I know… she’s just tearing into me saying she’s having “lady problems” and she needs to use the bathrooms. So…I’m trying to stand up to her right… tell her I can’t let her in, but she just would not take no for answer. Eventually I just give up and tell her I didn’t see her, just to get away from her,” Skip said before a laugh. “When she got going, best you could do was get out of the way since there was no stopping her.”

It was strange for Max to hear about the blunette’s time at Blackwell. So much of it had been unknown to her, as she only managed to sneak a glance at her student file. The file had painted a clear picture on what Chloe had been like as a student, but left much unknown as to her interactions with other students. The fact that there were those around that cared for the blunette managed to bring Max a small measure of comfort. But also broke her heart over the fact the she had either been unwilling or unable to completely open up to those around her, or at least not until Rachel had come into her life.

Steph Gingrich and Mikey North were the next to share a story about Chloe.

“We drifted apart after she left Blackwell,” Steph started before looking at Mikey, “but we knew her fairly well when we were there. After her dad died, everyone knew what she was going through,” Steph paused for moment of reflection before continuing with a certain level of sadness, “but most people just saw her as the “dead dad girl” and stayed away from her. We did our best to reach out to her,” Steph said after a pause before turning to look at Mikey, “but she always kept her distance, like she didn’t want to let anyone get close. She did open up a bit though.”

“Yeah, like the times she played D&D with us,” Mikey eagerly interrupted as though he had been waiting for this portion of the story.

“Wait what?” Max questioned not quite believing what she was hearing. “So the nerd had been driven from her fully at that point,” Max finished with a laugh.

“Oh no,” Mikey confirmed with a smile, “She totally got into it. In fact, I was hoping she would start to play with us regularly but we didn’t see her much after she started hanging with Rachel.”

“Yeah, she might’ve gotten a little too into it,” Steph confirmed with a short laugh, “Chloe got pretty intense a few times. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what she said to intimidate that dragonkin.”

_Chloe: “Here’s what’s up. I’m going to carve the skin from your bones. Then I’m going to turn your skin into a little leather handbag that I’ll shove your skinless body in so I can carry it around with me wherever I go. That way, the next time some asshat refuses to give me what I want, I can pull your body out and show them what happens. How does that sound?”_

_Steph: Uh…wow._

_Mikey: That was nuts._

“But yeah, that quest was totally epic though,” Mikey turning the subject back to the D&D games, “We totally kicked Duurgaron’s ass.”

“What are you talking about?” Steph chimed in, teasing Mikey, “You totally lost both of your feet.”

Max just listened, trying to appreciate this new side of Chloe that she hadn’t heard about. Struggling to follow along, the brunette had become completely lost as they detailed the various encounters on the quest, but found it interesting regardless. Their story reminded her of when she and Chloe would play video games together as kids. Chloe would always get way to competitive and end up making Max quit. The behavior had pissed her off so much at the time, but thinking back on it now, drew a laugh from the brunette.

The harrowing tale of the Dungeons and Dragons adventure was followed by Dana and Juliet detailing the night a forest fire had kept the latter from preforming in Blackwell’s rendition of The Tempest. With the fire department unable to contain the blaze, the roads had been closed due to hazardous conditions. Ironically enough, Chloe was pressed into service due in no small part to the fire that she had been an accomplice to along with Rachel Amber.

“So this was… what 2010?” Dana mused inquisitively.

“Yeah… that was the year of that huge forest fire,” Juliet answered. “The fire was so bad the road were closed off… so Chloe had to fill in for me.”

Having been disciplined for skipping class earlier that day, with Chloe being suspended and Rachel losing the lead role in the play, the blunette had originally only made an appearance to support her new friend. Initially resolute in her refusal to participate, Chloe struggled to come up with an alternate solution. Unable to resist the charms of Ms. Amber, the blunette reluctantly agreed to fill in for the role of Ariel. Although as a consequence of the late notice, Chloe was allotted only a few minutes to learn the characters lines.

Having studied the script as best she was able given the time, with a little help from Mary Jane, Chloe made her way to the stage. Watching in awe as her new friend performed, the blunette was ushered onto the stage by the director Mr. Keaton, as the line serving as her cue was delivered. Under the bright lights and faced with eyes of the audience, Chloe shuffled over to the designated space.

“Something… special happened that night,” Dana reflected. “Chloe couldn’t act… but the connection between her and Rachel…”

Chloe had been attempting downplay the extent of her anxiety by acting in a manner meant to suggest she had not taken the performance seriously, which was effectively the audible equivalent of a roll of the eyes. The demeanor, intended as a shield of sorts, was adapted as a façade, meant to protect herself in the event of failure. Initially delivering the lines in a satirical exuberant context, the blunette had been caught off guard as Rachel went off script. Flustered by the unexpected change, Chloe had been able to adapt to the improvisation after the initial confusion subsided. Diverging off of the script, the dialogue had shifted to an introspection of their prior discussed plan to leave Arcadia Bay together. For in that moment, despite performing before a live audience, the two were speaking directly to each other.

“So come with me!” the blunette stated emphatically. “Is that not in thy pow’r?” 

“For but a little longer I beseech: continue in thy service to my schemes.” Rachel implored after dropping to one knee. “And when they are complete, I swear to thee, we shall fly beyond this isle – the corners of the world our mere prologue. . . .  What sayest thou to my most hopeful wish?”

Despite stumbling initially, Ariel and Prospera turned in a captivating performance that had the audience transfixed on the formation of a bond on display before them. With the eyes of the audience locked on, the two girls stood under the stage lights, lost in the moment. The tension heightened by the silence; went undisturbed until an exuberant onlooker provided an indication as to the opinion of the audience. Overwhelmed by the gesture, Chloe realized the silence had become unbearable, was startled out of the trance by the interruption from the audience.

“Yes,” Chloe replied on the verge of tears, mercifully accepting the proposal from the girl kneeling before her.

“I am most pleased.” Rachel replied, smiling ear to ear before pivoting to a more lighthearted demeanor dismissing her companion from the stage. “You duty, done for now. So go forth hence with haste! I’ve work to do.”

Relieved to be off the stage, Chloe was left to reflect on what had just taken place, as she watched the remainder of the show from backstage. The detail surrounding one the pivotal moments in their relationship drew a mixed reaction from Max. On one hand, she was grateful for now having a better understanding of what had made them close, a shared desire to find a life outside of Arcadia Bay. But on the other, the brunette couldn’t deny the sting of jealousy she experienced every time after learning about the depth of the relationship between the two girls. Filled with a sense of shame over the jealousy, which was further compounded by the fact she was finding solace in the arms of Victoria. Admonishing herself internally, Max attempted to push those thoughts from her mind and focus on the celebrating the life of Chloe at the Two-Whales Diner.

As Dana and Juliet’s story was winding down, a familiar face entered the diner. The man had glanced around the diner in attempt to locate an open seat before Max recognized him. After entering the diner, it took Max a moment to recognize that the individual was Frank Bowers, as he had looked much worse than she remembered from the original timeline. Though personal hygiene had seemingly not been a priority during their prior encounters, the man’s appearance had become even more disheveled. Frank’s hair gave off the oily reflection of having not been washed in days, and his body odor of booze and cigarettes supported that assessment.  His clothes were dirty and his body language was indicative of a man at the end of his rope. After recognizing him, Max attempted to draw his attention before realizing that she had never met him in this timeline.

“Hey…,” Max stammered trying to think of an excuse of why she called him over.

“Do I…,” Frank started before stumbling. “Do I know you?” Franked asked, clearly under the influence of something.

“No… but you’re Frank Bowers right? Chloe mentioned you.” Max answered, no longer sure if this was a good idea, “We were just sharing some stories, and I thought you might want to join us.”

Frank was initially reluctant to accept the offer, but Max eventually wore him down enough for him join the group. Ultimately, Frank had shared in the responsibility for what happened in the darkroom. After all, it had been his drugs that had been used to drug Rachel and Kate prior to their kidnapping. Ignorance to what the drugs were being used for didn’t absolve him from the part he played in the incident. But Max had seen reason to forgive the man because, albeit with a bit of convincing, he supplied a critical piece of information during the investigation in the original timeline. His actions also directly caused the death of Rachel and now every time Max thought of him, she saw the tortured look of complete despair that had been on his face after being told that it had been his drugs that killed his girlfriend.

“I suppose I could tell you about the time she stole a t-shirt from some guy selling them at the Old Mill.” Frank offered before laughing to himself. “Firewalk was doing a concert at the Old Mill that burned down a few years back.” Frank said as he began his story, “somehow Chloe managed to sneak in.”

“Ah, I heard about that show,” Justin managed to interject through the purple haze he frequently found himself in, “I was so pissed I missed that show.”

“It was a pretty kick ass show,” Frank admitted. “Anyway, this guy was selling t-shirts out of the back of his car. Chloe wanted one… but didn’t have any money.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Max cracked by laughing to herself.

“Exactly… but there was no way she was leaving without a shirt.” Frank continued before smiling at the memory of what came next. “She tried to win the guy over with that backtalk ability of hers, but he wasn’t going for it. So she tried to sneak one past the guy but… since he wasn’t blind he shut that shit down.”

“Damn, Chloe did not give a shit!” Trevor added, “So how’d she get the shirt?”

“It was pretty damn clever actually,” Frank replied laughing, “Since the guy selling the shirts out of his trunk, he couldn’t see what was going on behind him. So Chloe sneaks in through the passenger side door and releases the e-brake.” Frank paused for moment as he noticed everyone around the table had the same look of their faces. A look that suggested they were all thinking; uh oh, what happens next?

“The guy had backed up an incline,” Frank continued as the table began to see where this was going, “so when she released the e-brake, the car rolled down the hill and hit a parked car. So he and the other guy were gettin’ into it, Chloe just walked up; grabbed a shirt and the guy’s money and walked off… and… then I sold her some pot.”

“That was sounds like Chloe,” Max said, as the table began to laugh.

Max felt a surge of guilt throughout Frank’s story. Once the time frame of the story had been confirmed, the brunette remembered that was a few months after Chloe had attempted to reestablish their friendship. After Max had moved to Seattle in 2008, there had been a falling out between the two close friends. Initially feeling despair over her friend moving, the blunette’s perspective eventually turned to anger. While Chloe was in the midst of the initial decent into her downward spiral, she had taken her anger out on Max, lashing out over feelings of abandonment. The resulting fallout left both girls feeling the other had hated them. Therefore, each of them became afraid to put themselves out there by initiating contact, and subsequently they drifted apart.

Roughly a year later, Max received a text message from her old friend. After briefly apologizing, the blunette was eager to pick things up where they had left off. By this point however, Max had moved on with her life in Seattle, but didn’t have the heart to tell her to do the same. For it wasn’t only Chloe that had a hard time adjusting to a new life after the move. Max herself had struggled mightily adapting to her new life in Seattle, having been consumed with guilt over leaving. Therefore, when Chloe had made contact in the fall of 2009, the brunette thought it would be best if she moved on to. It tore Max up inside to blow her off like that, but after their fight the previous year, she felt it would reopen open old wounds for them both. As a result, the brunette was convinced that reconnecting with Chloe would do them both more harm than good.

Now with the benefit of hindsight, Max knew that she was just scared of getting hurt again. Only now, did she realize that rebuking Chloe’s advances was a defense mechanism intended to safe guard against any further emotional distress. It had been a struggle for the brunette to move on with her life, and having since done so successfully, she didn’t want to risk being hurt again. But looking back on it now, Max realized that was really the catalyst for all of her guilt.

As the laughter at the table began to die down from Frank’s story, Victoria interjected to add a story of her own. The eyes of those in attendance turned to the blonde in surprise over the notion of that she would have a story to share.

“This was back toward the end of my first year at Blackwell,” Victoria began, as the rest of the table directed their attention to her. “We didn’t really talk much… we just knew of each other. In fact, I thought her name was Kari at first,” Victoria said, having just remembered that detail. “At first it was an honest mistake… but after I found out her actual name, I kept calling her Kari just to be a bitch.” Pausing for a moment, a subdued chuckle emanated from the blondes mouth before continuing. “Chloe was always… herself… she didn’t give a shit what people thought of her… and I hated her for that because I couldn’t be like that.” Victoria sighed, before making eye contact with Max, “Kind of like someone else I know.”

“So I was doing chem homework by the fountain when Chloe approached me.” Victoria paused to glance around the table before resuming her story. “She offered to help me with my homework, claiming she had finished the assignment. In hindsight… that should’ve been a red flag right there.” Victoria continued while shaking her head as she laughed.

“Oh no,” Max cut in before the blonde could resume the story.

“Oh yeah,” Victoria teased, while nodding before continuing. “She told me the answer to the final question was; fluorine, uranium, carbon, potassium and uranium again.”

Victoria paused momentarily to assess the scene around the table, as everyone quickly exchanged a glanced, each clearly thinking something along the lines of; ‘okay, so then what happened.’ The only exception being Mikey, who had been the only one familiar enough with the periodic table to get the joke. Smiling to herself before continuing, “I didn’t get it either. Those elements spell; F, U, C, K, and U on the periodic table.”

As each person repeated the letters in their head for a moment, everyone suddenly burst out laughing as the lightbulb clicked on and they each got the joke.

Laughing, Max finally said; “Aw, I’m sorry… but that’s hilarious.”

“That’s okay,” Victoria replied to reassure Max. “I had it coming,” as she laughed about it with everyone else.

Before the night had begun to wind down, there were more stories to be shared. Justin and Trevor talked at length about the times she and Rachel would hang out with them to smoke pot and skateboard. Skip had also brought up how much Chloe used to piss of the staff at Blackwell with her infamous black sharpie. Eventually, as the night drew to a close, people slowing started to make their exit, before Max and Victoria took their own leave to return to the dorms. On the car ride back, the two held hands, each trying to suppress an exuberant smile from appearing on their face. For fear of ruining the moment, neither of them spoke until they had reached the dorms and were walking towards their room. Arriving at their dorms, Max managed to summon the courage to speak first. 

“Do… Do you want to come in?” Max asked tentatively.

Victoria smiled affectionately before replying, “Yeah…definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Notes: One point of contention among the fandom over BtS was the fact that the game portrayed Max as having disregarded Chloe's attempts to maintain their friendship. So this was my attempt to reconcile that discrepancy during Frank's story. Hopefully, it was believable and provided a different context for them losing touch. Particularly, since LiS1 provides no indication as to whether they were connected on social media during that time.  
> One thing I struggled with in this chapter was how much detail should I go into during the stories. I'm assuming anyone reading this has played both games, but I tried to convey the perspective of the person telling the story as well as Max hearing them for the first time.  
> Anyway, now that the funeral arch is over, this story will start moving towards it's climax and the fabled reader choice I've been hyping since I started posting this. My plan is, when I reach that point, to leave the choice to you, the readers. I was thinking just leave a comment indicating your choice, or message me on twitter. @TripleB851


	22. Chapter 22

“Max…I have to do this…if you won’t come with, then…then I’ll just go without you.”

The first words Max heard after regaining consciousness sent a chill down her spine before realizing she was back with Chloe. Forcing her gaze away from the floor, the brunette locked eyes with the blunette, as a sick feeling crept into her stomach after realizing that the two had been fighting over something. The punks eyes were bloodshot, her checks flushed with blood, while fresh tears were visible on her face. Despite lacking access to a mirror at that moment, Max was able to ascertain with a measure of certainty that her complexion was markedly similar. After taking a moment to process the situation, the brunette wiped tears away with a sleeve, as she opened her mouth to speak.

“Chloe… I just… I just don’t understand why you have to go?” Max replied, struggling to not offer any indication of the complete bewilderment she was experiencing in regard to the nature of the dispute. Rather than simply ask, the brunette decided to play along in hopes that the root of the argument would become apparent.

“You don’t understand? That’s hella fucked up, Max,” the blunette responded with disbelief visible on her face.

_Shit, Max thought, well that was a huge swing and a miss right there._

“I can’t just walk away,” Chloe resumed emphatically, “I can’t just leave it behind like it never happened.”

 

After learning that David had survived the storm, Chloe had eventually been able to establish a line of contact. The conversation was truly a sight to behold for any who had previously borne witness to the dynamic between the two. Gone was the level of animosity that had always been the defining aspect of their relationship, replaced by something that could that could have reasonably been interpreted as genuine adoration. While the conversation provided Chloe a much need connection to her old life, it also brought with it the pain of knowledge that hadn’t yet been reported on the news.

“Chloe!?! Chloe… is that you!?!” David cried frantically, plugging an ear with one hand and gripping the phone with more force than recommended by the manufacturer in effort to ensure the call was as clear as possible.

“Yeah, it’s me… David,” the blunette answered, matching the frantic tone from the other end of the line.

Oh, thank god, I thought… I thought I lost you to,” the man replied, with the relief in his voice evident to the extent of being nearly audible. “Where are… hey… did you just call me David?”

“Hmm… so I did… and we shall never speak of this again,” the blunette retorted, drawing a much needed laugh from the both of them.

 

The euphoric state was short lived however, as the conversation provided a confirmation of Chloe’s worst fears. The Two-Whales diner had met the same end, being engulfed in flames due to a gas leak, as it had in the original timeline. The explosion left no survivors, and to inflict further insult upon injury, by the time the fire had finally been extinguished, there had been little left in its wake in regard to remains of those that had taken up shelter from the storm. The revelation came as no surprise, but that in no way lessened the devastation the blunette felt upon its confirmation.

“They found… they found Joyce in the diner,” David admitted, his voice cracking as he struggled to say the words out loud. “Or… at least what was left… there wasn’t much to find after the fire.”

“No… NO!” the blunette cried, unable to find any additional words in the moment. “It’s all my fault… this never should have happened… not to her!” Continuing to vent her grief, Chloe had collapsed to the floor in a heap of tears before making eye contact with the brunette. Unable to find the words to attempt any semblance of consolation, Max adverted her gaze reflexively, no longer to bare the look of anguish on the blunette’s face.

“Chloe… this isn’t your fault,” David interjected, in an attempt alleviate the guilt tormenting his step-daughter.

“I was so selfish…,” Chloe exclaimed on the verge of full blown sobbing, not willing to heed the words of consolation. “She gave up so much… but I didn’t care… it should’ve been me… she deserved more than to die in that fucking diner!”

Now matching his step-daughters emotional distress, David attempted to talk Chloe off of the ledge. “Chloe… your mom loved you more than anything… I know she’d want you to live…”

“I know!” Chloe cried out, interrupting David. “But somehow… somehow that makes it even worse!”

 

After solemnly confirming the death of her mother, and the subsequent crying, the conversation transitioned to his role in the recovery efforts already underway. Having been at ground zero since day one, David had a greater insight on the extent of the damage than what had been conveyed by the media coverage. Owing his survival to that of an anonymous tip, the old soldier had managed to survive the storm by holding out in the darkroom. Following the tip from Max, David had been there to find Mr. Jefferson. As a result, he had managed to subdue the perpetrator of the darkroom conspiracy and rescue Victoria Chase, a feat which had rendered him a local celebrity of sorts.

The fate of several notable residents that had the misfortune of being unable to reach suitable shelter form the storm had been revealed during the call. Due to the absence of Max from Arcadia Bay Blvd, the people she had saved while on route to the diner had not survived the storm. Always looking for the perfect shot, Evan had died as a result of the traumatic brain injury suffered after being struck by a large piece of debris. Another bystander, Alyssa, had been found in the wreckage of the apartment building, having been unable to escape prior to the floor collapsing without the assistance from the brunette. While not unexpected, receiving word on the fate of two of her classmates hit Max like a punch to the stomach. Rendered nauseous from the guilt, the brunette was grateful that David had spared them the more gruesome details of their injuries.

With the exception of the supernatural signs that had been occurring in the proceeding days, the storm itself had seemed to appear out of nowhere, offering no advanced notice to the town. Unfortunately, for anyone who turned to the television, the advice offered did nothing but further reduce their chance of survival. The news suggested the same advice as they would with any tornado; find the lowest room available with no windows, but the storm that hit Arcadia bay was anything but a normal storm. The individual’s fortunate enough to survive was largely predicated on the choice of shelter. The more structurally sound buildings, with foundations supported by brick and mortar, offered the best chance of survival for those in the direct trajectory of the storm. However, the casualties were much higher among those of the population that sought shelter in the older building of poor construction. Perhaps the least surprising revelation unveiled was that of the areas with the greatest damage, the most extensive of which, was the Prescott developed Pan Estates due to the inferior materials and inadequate construction.

_I’ll take, news that is not surprising in the least for $500 Alex, the brunette mused internally, after learning the fate of Pan Estates._

Fortunately, the update received from David was not entirely of a depressing nature. Despite the fact that the storm seemed to target the academy specifically, the more recently constructed additions to the campus withstood the storm with their structural integrity relatively intact. Therefore, the extent of the damage inflicted was as varied as the construction dates of each section of the grounds, with the initial construction dating back to 1910. Consequently, a significant portion of the student body that had been in attendance at the End of the World Party had managed to survive. Ironically, a larger portion of the casualties were inflicted on those that had been off campus at the time of the storm. During the call, the former security chief at Blackwell had also confirmed the survival of several names recognizable by the two girls including; Dana, Zach, Brooke, and Justin. Among the survivors, perhaps due to his affinity with squirrels, was the janitor Samuel Taylor. A fact which was attributed primarily to the fact he hadn’t been on the campus grounds at the time of the storm, also likely a result of the squirrels.

“Yeah… he kept saying, “Chloe’s spirit still has matter’s to attend to,” but I just thought the guy had lost his marbles since he kept rambling about squires. I guess I owe the guy an apology…” David said with a laugh, before allowing his voice to trail off.

“Yeah… he’ll do that…” Chloe managed to stammer out in response before reciprocating the laugh, albeit one born form nerves rather than relief. After which, the punk and the hipster exchanged a nervous glance over the revelation, concerned over the possibility of them somehow being implicated by the ramblings of a man that many considered to be the harmless brand of crazy.

 

After having caught up on the latest developments, the conversation eventually transitioned over to plans for the immediate future. Upon learning that David intended to stay in Arcadia Bay to aid in the recovery effort, despite efforts to persuade him otherwise, Chloe had been convinced that the best thing for her would be to do the same. The blunette began to see returning to Arcadia Bay as her best chance at redemption, or at least finding peace over what happened. The idea baffled Other Max, after the trauma she had endured, after everything that was lost, returning to ground zero was the last thing she wanted to do. The brunette preferred to focus on healing; both mentally and physically before considering the possibility of returning to take part in the recovery. As a result, a discussion on the matter quickly dissolved into an argument, which eventually became rather heated.

“Chloe…I’m not saying no,” the desperation becoming evident in her voice. To Other Max, the prospect of returning to Arcadia Bay was absolutely terrifying. “I’m…I’m just saying not yet. I can’t go back there. It’s…it’s too soon.”

It was at this point in the argument that Main Max had the unfortunate timing of interjecting herself. As Chloe reluctantly proclaimed that she would go alone if faced with an ultimatum, panic swept over the brunette as the intensity of the situation she had just dropped into was overwhelming. Desperation kicked in as she frantically searched her brain for a way to placate the situation.

“Chloe… I can’t… can we please just wait, at least until tomorrow morning? I can’t handle this right now.”

“Okay Max,” the blunette let out a sigh before moving in to hug the smaller girl. “Your right… let’s calm down and we can… well this can wait til later.”

As the two embraced, neither could deny the sense of awkwardness that hung over them. Each of them felt the same concern that they were just delaying onset of the schism forming between them, a result of being unable to find a compromise on the issue, rather than face it in the moment. While able to find a semblance of solace of the momentary reprieve, the brunette felt a sense of dread permeate over the notion that the measure would merely only afford a momentary delay. Having begun to enjoy these moments with Chloe as an absolution from the stress that accompanied her waking hours, the last thing the brunette needed was additional stress of losing Chloe or returning to a decimated Arcadia Bay. While taking solace in Chloe’s arms, Max couldn’t help but wonder what situation she would find herself in the next time she came here.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit... meets fan.

** Chapter 23 Wed 16th  Morning  **

****

“You loved her…didn’t you?”

The still half asleep brunette’s eyes shot open upon hearing Victoria’s words to begin the morning. Initially frozen in surprise, her mind raced through the potential catalysts of such a question as the anxiety subsided. After spending the nighttime excursion pleading with Chloe to stay Seattle, waking up to the inquisition from the blonde would not have been Max’s first choice on how to start the day. Seeing the confusion on her face, Victoria mercifully offered some context to the question.

“You were talking in your sleep last night,” the blonde continued, before pausing in an attempt to put aside her feelings for the moment. “You kept saying her name…begging her not to go, that…that you needed her.”

“Vic…I…yes,” Max signed, reluctantly admitted to her feelings for Chloe.

The revelation didn’t come particularly come as a surprise to Victoria, but the confirmation of what she already suspected caused a spike of insecurity. To make matters worse, Max had turned just in time to witness the blonde recoil as an ache pierced her heart. The emptiness behind Victoria’s eyes; underscored by the burgeoning tears dripping down her face, caused a wave of guilt to come crashing down on the brunette. When initially opening up, Max had decided to omit some details from the story, including the extent of her and Chloe’s relationship, under the pretense of protecting Victoria. But just as the brunette had done with Chloe several years earlier; the decision had been born out of fear.

After the brief exchange, a long silence fell over the room. The dynamic between them turned cold, as Victoria involuntarily turned away from the brunette in an attempt to conceal her heartache. With time slowing to a crawl, as the blonde turned away, Max froze in panic, realizing that this was a critical moment in their relationship. However, before she could speak, Victoria opened her mouth to interject herself back into the conversation.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the blonde asked, voice filled with trepidation, still unable to face the hipster.

“V… I didn’t… I… I was afraid,” Max said as she hung her head in shame. “I was afraid…of losing you.”

“And you thought keeping this… Max… I need…I need some time…we’ll talk later okay?” Victoria countered, the irritation initially surging through the tone, before regaining her composure.

After the two locked eyes in a moment of uncertainty, the blonde proceeded to shift before moving to get out of the bed. Having one foot already on the ground and the second one moving in that direction, Victoria felt something grab her arm and pull her back onto the bed. With her annoyance clear on her face, she turned to look at the brunette while Max had opened her mouth to speak.

“Victoria… nothing can replace Chloe…”

“What the fuck? Not helping Max… I’m not just going to be a shoulder for you to cry on while you get over her!”

“What? No!” the brunette countered, immediately regretful of the word choice. “But I don’t want you to. Our relationship is different…but in a good way. This tragedy… this is what brought us together; we share the same pain over what happened to that day. That grief created something between us…something you don’t just walk away from…something that you hold on to.”

Each overcome with emotion from the sentiment, Max slid across the bed to embrace the blonde as they both had begun to cry. Whilst in the process of doing so, Victoria flinched, causing the brunette to stop. As much as she hoped otherwise, Max knew that words alone wouldn’t be enough this time. In the awkward moment after the flinch, the blonde looked back at the other girl. As the two made eye contact, they each could see the look of pain on the others face.

“Sorry…I didn’t mean…Max, I just need sometime okay?”

****  
  


As the door closed, Max found herself alone on her bed, stunned over what had just occurred. After affording her mind a moment to process what had exactly happened, shock over the incident waned as the tears from earlier descended into full blown sobbing. Her heart in pieces, the brunette hadn’t felt this alone since the first night back in her dorm room. Victoria’s sudden departure had left her delirious, as she contemplated the possibility that their relationship had been damaged irreparably. The thought of which had been devastating, a prospect that only further hastened the brunette’s tailspin.

The subsequent despair eventually led to an inner conflict of sorts between her heart and her mind. The logic emanating from her mind tried to process the situation rationally by formulating a plausible scenario for reconciliation. Max could understand the blonde’s insecurities, as there were no assurances that their relationship was based on genuine affection, rather than a product born out of circumstance. But the brunette’s had been sincere when she said the pair had something together, and if she could somehow demonstrate that, the prospect of patching things up seemed attainable. Despite her minds best attempts at rationalism, on the other hand, her heart was having none of it. Rather, her heart preferred a different approach, one in which every detail was over analyzed, convinced the worst scenario would come to pass. Eventually, after the initial surge of anxiety had passed, Max began listening to her mind.

“Okay… she just found out I have feelings for my dead best friend,” Max contemplated, in an attempt to understand Victoria’s point of view. “If I was in her place, I’d probably be freaked out too.”

Begrudgingly, after taking a step back from her perspective, the brunette had to admit that the blonde’s reaction was justified. Although the fact did little to comfort her in that moment, Max was able to find a measure of solace in the fact that they had agreed to continue the discussion later. Until then however, she would just have to hope that Victoria would accept what Chloe had meant to her. Realizing that staying in her room would result in only her torturing herself as she over thought every detail, Max decided to get ready for the day.

Unfortunately, drama seemed intent on following Max that morning. Before heading to the shower, she noticed a missed call and text message both from her mom, Vanessa.

_Ah shit, this can’t be good, Max thought as she unlocked her phone to check her messages._

**Mom:** Honey, I just received a call from Principle Wells this morning. Please call me when you get this.

_Forget that, the brunette thought with a laugh._

Deciding to forgo the uncomfortable conversation until after the shower, Max grabbed her toiletries and entered the hall on route to the bathrooms. Relieved to not run into Victoria or the rest of the mean girls on the way, she stepped into the shower grateful that no one else used it this early. Unfortunately, what should’ve been a relaxing shower had been ruined by thoughts of the confrontation with Wells and the inevitable reprimand that would be coming from Vanessa. In the moment, Max had opted against the use of a rewind after unloading her frustrations on the Blackwell principle, but was now regretful of that decision. At the time, the justification had been that people deserved to know the role he had played in the shooting and yelling at him in front of a crowd seemed to be an effective means of accomplishing that. But now, faced with the consequences, the brunette questioned whether the outburst had been detrimental to her ultimate goal. After returning to from the shower, Max hesitated before returning the call, decided it was preferable to get the conversation over with sooner rather than later.

“Hi Mom…I got your text.”

“Max, Principle Wells told me about what happened,” Vanessa began before pausing to select the next words carefully. “Honey…I know you’re struggling with Chloe’s death… but you can’t lash out like that...”

“Did he tell why I yelled at him?” the brunette interrupted, immediately losing patience for the conversation. “Specifically.”

“Well…he just said that you blamed him for not stopping Nathan… and that you made a scene in the hallway.”

“Mom, that piece of shit knew Nathan was unstable… he deliberately covered up any incident on his record because the Prescott’s owned his ass. Wells put everyone at Blackwell at risk to keep the Prescott’s money coming in.”

“Max…how do you…that doesn’t mean he’s responsible.”

“Yeah, he didn’t pull the trigger… but he let Nathan terrorize the school,” the brunette continued to vent in frustration. “Saying there is no way he could’ve known is bullshit, that doesn’t excuse his part in what happened.”

The conversation had continued for a time after that, but continuing the discussion did little to mitigate the animosity that had been building throughout the duration. As the brunette became increasing adamant in regard to the principles guilt, the elder Caulfield became increasingly concerned over what she perceived as misplaced anger over the loss of a friend, a fact which further increased the disconnect between them. Eventually, the conversation ended abruptly after it had become clear that any prospect of reaching a consensus on the matter was bleak. Vanessa had tried to be understanding, but her primary concern was helping her daughter cope with the grief rather than casting blame at those responsible.

After ending the call, Max immediately felt regret over how her behavior, acknowledging that the earlier fight with Victoria had likely contributed to the argumentativeness. The brunette knew her mom had her best interests at heart and was acting out of concern over the affect the death of her best friend was having on her. Of course, Vanessa didn’t understand, there was no way for her to realize the extent that her daughter had been traumatized that week, which culminated in the loss of Chloe.  Even Victoria had struggled to comprehend what Max had been through, and she had the luxury of knowing the entire story. Before departing for class, Max grabbed her phone to send a text to her mom, having cooled down significantly since the conversation had ended.

 **Max:** I’m sorry mom; I know you’re just worried about me. I’ll call you later.

With the text sent, Max stepped out of the dormitories and braced herself for whatever the day had in store for her.


	24. Chapter 24

** Chapter 24 – Wednesday, the 16th \- Morning **

As Max entered the main building of Blackwell Academy, she was met with an unpleasant sight. Before her stood the familiar image of Principle Wells greeting students on route to their morning classes. Despite doing her best to blend in with the other students entering, Wells had managed to spot the brunette while making her way passed the administrative area.

“Maxine! Can I talk to you for a minute?”

_Shit! The brunette thought as she begrudgingly approached the man._

“If you would, let’s step into my office for a moment please.”

Sitting directly across from the man in a moment of awkwardness, the brunette’s thoughts drifted away from the conversation at hand in favor of recalling the memory of searching the office for evidence with Chloe. In their attempt to break in, the blunette had severely overstated her lock picking prowess, leaving the task of getting inside to Max. Eventually managing to bypass the lock, with a little help from Warren, she used her rewind to fix the damage and turn off the alarm. The look on Chloe’s face after she had opened the lock door from the other side had been priceless. Unfortunately, while on this trip down memory lane, the brunette had been unable to suppress a smile.

“Is there something amusing about this Max?” Wells asked, with an abundance of irritation in his tone over what he perceived as disrespect.

“No sir,” she replied trying to look as though she was taking this seriously.

“Good… now as I was saying,” the principle resumed with his irritation having been replaced with smug satisfaction, “We at Blackwell understand how difficult a tragedy this the one last week can be difficult to process, but we can’t have you accusing this institution of negligence in regard to what happened. Do we have an understanding Max?”

“I didn’t accuse Blackwell of negligence…I accused you of negligence,” the brunette responded with a vindictive smile after seeing that Wells had been taken aback by her boldness. “Don’t try to intimidate me, Wells,” the girl continued now leaning forward in the chair. “I know what you did…I know you had two separate files for Nathan. The real one and the one you kept spotless to keep the Prescott’s at bay.”

“Ms. Caulfield… I will not tolerate threats from you!”

“Does the phrase, “Rachel in the dark room” mean anything to you?” she countered with complete disregard over his protest.

“How do you… did you break into my office?” he stammered out in response after a look of disbelief crept over his face.

“You had a hand in this Wells,” Max said after standing up, “and you’ll answer for that soon enough. But in the meantime, you might wanna start drafting your resignation letter.”

At that point, Max turned to make her exit, leaving the man stunned in her wake. With a hand extended to open the door into the main hall, the brunette felt the same guilt from that morning after talking to her mom about her confrontation with Wells. In what was assuredly an error in judgment, the brunette had repeated the same mistake from the earlier confrontation. Instead of remaining focus on the big picture, the euphoria from the momentary satisfaction had dictated her actions. Realizing the potential implications of her actions, the brunette admonished herself over the impulsiveness she displayed.

_Are you cereal Max? She mused internally, as her mind processed potential consequences of the outburst._

Reluctantly turning around and returning the door to Wells’ office, the brunette paused to regain her composure. Looking up from a state of thought, Max met eyes with the receptionist before barely containing a snicker in reaction to the expression staring back at her. Returning her focus to the task at hand, she turned the handle and proceeded to enter the office unannounced.

“Max… what… what are you doing back here?!?” he asked, scrambling to conceal something under his desk.

Despite acting with haste, Wells had been unable to keep the bottle of whiskey from the brunette’s purview. Flashing a smirk upon realization of what the principle was desperately trying to conceal, Max approached the desk. “Don’t worry Wells,” she began before pausing for effect, “you can booze it up later.”

“Ms. Caulfield… get out!” Wells stated, struggling to contain his anger.

Deciding she had had enough fun at another’s expense, Max held up her right hand before concentrating as the events of the last couple of minutes slowly rewound. Watching the sequence in reverse, the brunette witnessed Wells return the bottle to the desk drawer before passing back in forth in reverse while making various hand gestures indicative of emotional distress. Arriving at a suitable moment to resume the conversation, Max released her grip on time before wincing in pain at the sudden spike in pressure on her mind.

“We at Blackwell understand how difficult a tragedy this the one last week can be difficult to process, but… Max… Max, are you okay?

As the worst of the pain subsided, Max opened her eyes, while in the midst of formulating a plausible excuse. However, upon meeting the gaze of the gentlemen across from her, the brunette felt something run past her mouth before dripping off the edge of her chin. Simultaneously putting a hand beneath her nose while glancing down, Max received confirmation on the nature of the substance. Upon affirming the presence of blood, the brunette’s focus shot back to Principle Wells.

“Yeah… I just…” she stammered, still searching for an explanation. “I’ve been getting these lately… ever since the… since the shooting.” What had begun as a search for a plausible explanation on the sudden onset of her nose bleed turned into a stark reminder that she was still struggling with the memory of that day. “Can we… finish this later? I need to get cleaned up.”

“Oh… of course Max,” Wells answered, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. “Perhaps you should have the nurse take a look at you on the way out?”

Having been excused, Max mumbled a form of an acknowledgement, before taking her leave. Running short on time before first bell, she quickly washed the dried blood from her face, before conceding to the limited effect water could have on her complexion. Still feeling the effects of the rewind, the brunette took a moment to observe the scene that lay before her upon entering the main hall. Experiencing a sense of deja vu at every turn, students were acting in the same manner as they had prior to the shooting. If the scene in front of her was any indication, the student body had learned absolutely nothing from tragedy from the prior week. Daniel was being bullied by the jocks, while bystanders offered nothing in terms of aid. Part of her hated them for that, demonstrating that they had learned nothing, appeared as an affront to the blunette’s memory, while the other was jealous of their ability to continue on with their lives.

Pushing the bitterness from her mind, Max resumed the trek on to her first class. While making her way down the hallway, a quick greeting was exchanged with Dana, before encountering one of the more frequent sights from the prior week. After moving past the cheerleader, the brunette saw a purple haired girl arch forward with one hand clasped to the back of her head in pain. Alyssa had been leaning her left shoulder against the lockers, facing down the hall, focused intently on sending a text message. Behind her, another student had opened their locker rather forcefully and managed to catch the unsuspecting girl in the back of the head. While shaking her head at the luck of the girl who seemingly had a dark cloud following her, Max decided to keep her out of harm’s way once again.

“Hey Alyssa,” she began after using her rewind.

“Hey Max,” the purple hair girl replied, stepping away from the lockers to turn her attention to the brunette. As expected, immediately thereafter, the door swung open and collided into the adjacent locker. Startled at the noise, she turned back to Max after realizing what almost happened.

“Damn, thanks Max. Are you my guardian angel?”

“I don’t think so… I was just saying hi,” the brunette said with a smile, now continuing down the hall, content with having done her good deed of the day.

The rest of the day proved to be rather uneventful compared to the theatrics that the morning had comprised of. When faced with the prospect of going to Photography, Max initially planned on skipping; only deciding to attend after recognizing it as an opportunity to assess the mind state of the man she had admired only a week ago. In with accordance with her usual M.O., she slinked into class in an effort to go unnoticed. Despite her best efforts, the brunette managed to stumble her way into making eye contact with Victoria. To her relief however, and mild surprise, the blonde offered a smile and small wave, to which she happily returned.

Class began the same as it always had, with Mr. Jefferson attempting to make the topic interesting by saturating his words in his trademark hipster vernacular. Almost immediately losing interest, Max shifted focus to the reason behind her attendance. If Jefferson had concern over his role in the darkroom being uncovered, his demeanor offered no indication of that, addressing the class with a level of smug arrogance. While clearly soaking up the admiration from the other students, it was only apparent if you had seen the man behind the curtain. Max had to admit, the man had nearly perfected his public façade. Before being one of his subject in the darkroom, the brunette didn’t suspect anything either. Although in hindsight, Max thought that the comment about being able to frame anyone in a dark corner probably should’ve raised a red flag. Unable to find even a subtle change in the man’s demeanor came as a disappointment, although that in itself was revealing. If Jefferson felt as though he was in the clear, it was possible that over confidence would lead him to make a crucial mistake. If that were the case, it would just be up to Max to find a way to capitalize on it.

Deep in thought, a ring of the bell abruptly pulled Max back to the present, causing her to realize that she had lost track of time. In the midst of gathering her things, the brunette sensed the presence of someone standing over her. Under able to discern their identity from the corner of her eye, Max looked up to see who it was. The initial apprehension dissipated after realizing it wasn’t Jefferson, but rather someone she was glad to see.

“Hey… can we talk?” Victoria said with a nervous smile. “I have some good news.”

“Yeah… sure,” the brunette replied, taking note of the number of people around. “Let head back to the dorms.”

As the two girls made their exit, their progress was halted by a voice calling out to them.

“Max! Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Recognizing the voice instantly, Max gave Victoria a quick nod to indicate it was okay before turning back to face Mr. Jefferson.

“Okay… let me know when you’re back in the dorms,” Victoria suggested, reluctantly following the brunette’s lead. “I’ll come over.”

“Hey Max,” Jefferson began before offering a smile as the hipster approached, “I just wanted to check on you… see how you’re doing.”

“I’m getting by,” the brunette replied, while requiring a concerted effort to mask her true feelings for the man. “It’s been rough… but I’m okay.”

“Are you, Max? The whole school is talking about that incident with Wells. Don’t get me wrong… it’s not that he didn’t have it coming… it’s just not like you… that’s all.”

“Somebody had to say something… you know he protected Nathan. If it wasn’t for him, Chloe… she’d still be here.” Max protested, now struggling to hold back tears.

“You’re right Max,” Jefferson answered with his best attempt at getting her to confide in him. “The rest of the faculty is talking about what should be done. You didn’t hear this from me but… he’ll probably be resigning soon.”

“Good… that’s the least that should happen to him.”

“Okay… well I see I’ve kept you long enough,” Jefferson admitted, sensing the brunette’s desire to leave. “But if you ever want to talk… I’m here.”

Finally free from the man she held with such contempt, Max exhaled in relief after stepping into the hall. It had been a struggle, but the brunette had managed to avoid lashing out at Jefferson. Grateful that the conversation was over, she hurried to meet Victoria at the dorms, paying no attention to whatever may have been happening around her.


	25. Chapter 25

** Chapter 25 Wed Afternoon **

 

Awkward.

The adjective provided the most apt description of the dynamic between Max and Victoria. After gathering the courage to knock on the brunette’s door, neither girl was quite sure how to broach the subject of the fight that morning. While taking in the sight of the other, neither spoke a word after making eye contact, before looking away when their nerves had gotten the better of them.

“Hey...” the blonde said meekly before Max had opened the door further in gesture for her to enter.

Making her way in the room, Victoria grimaced after glancing over at the bed. The sight of which conjured the memories of their fight, and long with it, an image of chalk outlines of where they had each been. The memory caused butterfly’s in the blonde’s stomach as though she had just walked past a crime scene. Eventually settling on the couch, a silence hung in the air as each girl waited for the other girl to start. Desperately searching for anything to focus on, other than the person sitting next to them, each stared intently at the floor. The tension in the air was on the verge of becoming palatable when amid the silence, Victoria’s phone went off.

BZZZ...BZZZ...BZZZ...

“Are you going to check that?” The brunette asked, having to force the words out of her month; mercifully bring an end to the silence.

“No... This is more important...” Victoria answered, with neither girl attempting to make eye contact with the other.

“V... I was scared... scared I’d ruin things between us...”

“I know Max... I… I freaked out... but I’m afraid that you trying to use me to replace her.”

Victoria’s last words brought Max’s train of thought to a halt. The possibility that she was using the blonde to get over her feelings for Chloe hadn’t been given serious consideration. The brunette felt as though her feelings for Victoria were genuine, but her mind struggled to come up with a rationale to convince the blonde of that fact. Regardless of the circumstance, the late-night excursions clearly indicated that she was currently unable to let go of the blunette. With the onset of guilt over her feelings for Chloe, panic swept through Max as she faced the possibility that their relationship was over.

“I want something real between us... and I don’t know if you can give that right now...” Victoria stated with a deflated look on her face. Taking note of the blank expression on the brunettes face had done little to alleviate her concerns. “I don’t want to be your second choice...”

“V... you’re not... I’m not...” Max stammered out, unable to form complete thought.

“Max... maybe you need some time to think… this is just happening so fast...” the blonde interrupted with tears in her eyes.

In a state of disbelief over the suggestion, the brunette offered nothing in response, having progressed from tears to complete sobbing over the idea. With her statement met with silence, Victoria collected herself in preparation to depart, having become frustrated by Max’s inability to provide a clear answer. Her world seemingly falling apart around her, the brunette was distraught over the prospect of losing someone she had come to depend on over the last few days. Resolute in her decision, Victoria said goodbye before making her way to the door. As the blonde slipped through her grasp, the brunette’s actions became driven by a mix of desperation and determination after deciding to not give up without a fight.

“Victoria... wait!”

“What is it, Max?” the blonde asked after turning to reveal that she also had lost control of her emotions.

“This...this is real. I can feel it...and I know you can to.”

“Max... I do... I just don’t know if this is the right time...”

“V... you’re right... I’m not over Chloe... but this is real and I’m not letting this go...”

While in the midst of her desperate attempt to keep Victoria from leaving, Max realized that actions would speak louder than any words. That had been the case earlier, as her silence had been indicative to Victoria that she wasn’t ready to move on. As a result, the brunette was determined to not repeat that mistake and demonstrate her feelings through action. Having closed the gap between them during the conversation, the brunette looked the other girl in the eyes after taking her hands.

“...and I’m not going to let you go.”

At the end of the proclamation, Max leaned up on her tip toes before pulling Victoria in for a kiss. Initially starting slowly, the kiss slowly built in intensity as feelings of unease and worry where replaced by euphoria. Slowly moving their way back into the room, Victoria paused after having backed the brunette against the bed. Pausing before pulling away, the blonde flashed a mischievous smirk before playing pushing Max on the bed.

“I can’t believe you almost let me leave... You’re going to pay for that.”

 

After allowing a moment for the two of them to get reacquainted, Victoria unveiled the good news she had teased previously. Earlier that day, the blonde had received an invitation from Kristine Prescott to a private service for Nathan, occurring tomorrow afternoon at the families Estate. The family had opted for a private service after considering the extent of the media attention the town was still being subjected to. Shock over the incident still radiated throughout Arcadia Bay and Sean Prescott had orchestrated the preceding with the intent of minimizing the effect of the publicity on his business operations. Therefore, having the service at the family estate provided a measure of control over the proceedings.

“This could be a perfect opportunity for get some intel,” Victoria suggested, with barely contained excitement.

“You’re right,” Max admitted, "this could be big.”

Clearly pleased with herself, Victoria boasted, “See, I told you I’m resourceful.”

“You’re right,” Max replied with feint sincerity, “I knew there was a reason I keep you around.”

“Aww, I hope that’s not the only reason,” Victoria countered suggestively.

“Maybe… I can think of one… maybe two others,” Max replied before obviously looking the girl up and down followed by an exaggerated wink. The awkwardness over the mornings revelation still hung in the air between them, but they both seemed intent on not letting it get in the way.

Attending the service was the most promising lead she’d had since returning to the dark room, but the brunette couldn’t shake the bad feeling over the idea. “You’ll have to go alone though,” Max reminded, turning the conversation back to a serious tone, “I wouldn’t be there to back you up.”

“I know,” Victoria countered. “Bringing the best friend of the girl their son killed would probably raise a few eyebrows huh?”

Max winced at the tone behind the blondes words. There was nothing more important to the brunette and Victoria’s cavalier attitude suggested that she wasn’t taking it as such. “V… this is serious,” Max said chiding the other girl, “We’re talking about a man who’s likely in bed with someone that has drugged, kidnapped, and photographed dozens of girls. If he catches you…”

“I know, Max,” Victoria answered sheepishly, “You’re right… sorry… I’m just trying to keep the mood light since this is some seriously fucked up shit here.”

After establishing an understanding on the seriousness of the situation, Max and Victoria began to hash out the details of the plan. On Victoria’s side, the plan was pretty simple; attempt to gain as much intel as possible. Although, it wasn’t in the what, but rather, the how in which the blonde’s role became difficult. Victoria had to able to engage with the Prescott’s without the underlying intent being obvious. Therefore, they had decided to forego any direct inquires, in favor of a subliminal approach, that Victoria could employ under the context of offering assistance. Together, they had brainstormed several different proposals along with some roleplay to simulate possible situations that could occur. However, they both agreed that the roleplay had largely been a waste of time as each of them suggested other situations that called for roleplay. While formulating their strategy, Victoria had been insistent over the prospect of searching the estate for clues should the opportunity presented itself, a notion Max steadfastly opposed.

“V… I’m not going to be there to rewind if you get caught,” Max reminded her. “We can’t afford them finding out that we’re on to them. If they get spooked, they could destroy any evidence they might still have.”

Slightly dejected but Victoria knew she was right, but the blonde couldn’t help but get caught up in the excitement of the mission.

Having established the objectives for Victoria, consideration was given to the brunette’s role. A few options were feasible, although most of which involved breaking and entering places owned by those in attendance at the service. After some deliberation however, it was agreed that any such option posed an unnecessary risk of detection, which would subsequently force Max to rewind in order to escape. Despite being willing to employ its use, Max was reluctant to rewind if other alternatives existed. Although, the brunette felt a temptation to test the limits of her abilities, as she had felt they had improved since first discovering them. Given the avenues available, it was decided that Max would serve largely in a support role. That enabled the brunette to offer guidance should it be required, in addition to providing further information on any leads that may be uncovered.

Feeling the plan had come together nicely, Victoria cried out in celebration, “Alright! Operation Drain the Swamp is a go!”

“Drain the Swamp?” Max asked curiously.

“What? You don’t like it?” Victoria asked, with disappointment evident in her tone.

“No… I like it,” Max replied, before leaning in for a kiss, “I like it a lot.”


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

As the moon light pierced the bedroom window, Max began to stir from a state of sleep. Initially reluctant to open her eyes, the brunette begrudgingly did so after discovering the remnants of dried tears on her checks while turning over. Whipping away the dried remnants, the brunette’s eyes shot open upon deciphering the décor of her Seattle bedroom through the moonlight. In the next moment, anxiety reared its ugly head as she had taken a moment to recount the events of the previous nighttime excursion. 

Chloe! Max thought before stumbling out of bed.

Unable to see clearly in the darkness, Max frantically fumbled around the night stand in search of the switch to illuminate the room. Initially unable to locate the light, the effort was eventually successful after discovering the lamp on the floor. After recovering from the momentary disorientation due to the sudden change in brightness, Max was taken aback by the current state of the room. Posters had been torn off the walls, the contents on the desk brushed to the floor, and various items were sprawled throughout the room. Normally a relatively tidy person, observing a room in relative disarray caused immediate concern.

Well this certainly isn’t a good sign, Max thought to herself sullenly. What the frick happened here?

Now surveying through the debris, akin to a crime scene, Max was looking for some indicator of what had transpired. Short thereafter, from her peripheral vision, the brunette noticed something amongst the bedding. Pulling back the sheet, a feeling of dread swept over her recognizing the object as a favorite childhood stuffed animal. Fresh tears began to form in the corner of her eyes as the brunette reached for the toy, before clutching it close to her chest. In her grasp was a red one eyed squid, appropriately named Billy the Squid, of which Chloe had gifted prior to her leaving Arcadia Bay. Uncovered by the pair on the same day that William had passed; Max had always suspected that was the reason Chloe had given it to her. Having made no progress in the assigned task of cleaning her room, the two girls went in search of buried pirate treasure after uncovering a recording from their eight year old selves. Following the clues laid out, the adventure eventually led to a time capsule they had buried in the backyard. After plundering the contents within, a shell shocked Joyce return home to reveal her father’s fate.

What otherwise would’ve been a memento of their childhood, with her father’s passing, it served as another reminder of what had been lost that day. Max had gladly accepted the gift and having taken it with her, it became a symbol of their friendship and her old life in Arcadia Bay. The brunette had sought comfort from the squid during the initial fight that had driven the two apart and later when she had closed herself off out of fear after Chloe had attempted to reconnect a year later. Over time, Max eventually lost count of the amount of nights she had spent crying herself to sleep with the stuffed squid held tight in her grasp. Through it all, Billy the Squid had become a piece of her old life as she tried to start anew in Seattle, serving as a reminder of happy memories and tears shed.

Well that certainly isn’t a good sign, Max thought to herself sullenly.

Getting back to the task at hand with a sense of urgency, Max was now fearful that something terrible had happened, while resuming the search. Recalling that Chloe had been struggling immensely with survivor’s guilt, she was unable to prevent thoughts of the blunette harming herself to some extent. With each subsequent pile of debris, the effort became increasingly frantic, as the brunette’s level angst continued to spike. Finding no answers through the endeavor, Max struggled to keep her anxiety at bay before having to place both hands against the wall for support. In an effort to mitigate the familiar symptoms of an oncoming panic attack, she closed her eyes and focused on breathing. 

“I can’t… I can’t go through this again…” the brunette pondered between intermittent breaths. “There has to be something… something that can tell me what happened.” 

Shortly thereafter, Max began to regain her composure as the worst of the symptoms began to subside. After exhaling an exuberant breath, the brunette opened her eyes to the floor below to find something lay discarded to the side of the trash can. After blinking twice, as though her eyes had been deceived, she bent over to pick up the crumpled piece of paper. Suddenly under the pressure of nerves, the brunette timidly made her way over to her desk to unfold the paper. Recognizing it as a note from Chloe, she had barely managed to suppress a gag reflex after seeing the dried teardrops splashed across the contents. With the sudden reemergence of her anxiety, the brunette meticulously sat down to read the note.

Max,

Uhhh… I didn’t know what… I don’t even know how to begin… and it turns out I couldn’t... I tried, I really did but… it’s just been impossible to talk to you lately. Anytime I brought up going back… it’s like I was talking to a different person. One minute you were open to the idea… the next… you would just completely shut down.

I’m sorry for leaving like this but… I have to go back. I just can’t live with the fact all those people died so I could live. I have to do something… something to justify their sacrifice. I understand why you can’t go back now, so I hope you’ll understand why I can’t just stay here. 

I’ll do my best to keep my phone charged… please don’t shut me out again. 

After all this… I can’t lose you again… please.

<3 Chloe 

Reading through the note proved to be a challenge, as Max had barely gotten past the first sentence before fresh tears began to cascade onto the page. Initially, the brunette enjoyed the excursions with Chloe as a means of escape, but that notion had been shattered after reading the letter. The pain she felt at reading the letter was reminiscent of what she had endured in the bathroom after going to correct the timeline. Crippled by the grief, Max sat helplessly, suffering the trauma of the confrontation for a final time. Now an overwhelming sense of anguish came over her, as the letter caused all of the pain and tears experienced after altering the timeline to resurface. 

“Nobody would ever miss your “punk ass” would they?” Nathan had asked, taunting the blunette with the gun.

“Get that gun away from me, psycho!” Chloe cried out, before shoving her assailant away, inadvertently causing Nathan to pull the trigger.

Mirroring the original timeline, Max cried out “NO,” unable to stop a verbal manifestation of her grief. Eventually her sorrow transitioned to bitterness, before finally settling on determination. If this really was an alternate timeline, the brunette refused to allow this Max experience the loss of Chloe as she had. After moving to Seattle, she had let Chloe go out of fear of being hurt again, now Max resolved to not that happened again to this Max. 

Forcing herself away from the desk, Max paced across the room while contemplating the best course of action. Initially, after discovering a photo taken since their arrival in Seattle, consideration was given to doing a photo jump to warn Other Max of the blunette’s impending departure. Although unsure if that was even possible, the option was discarded as there were too many unknowns. Next, the possibility reaching out to Chloe was considered, but that option was discarded as well as it was probable her alternate self would shut down due to the anxiety. Fearing that Other Max wouldn’t make the effort willingly, she decided to initiate the plan herself. 

Should be easy enough to convince her… she is me after all, Max thought with a smirk.

Realizing the plan hinged on securing a mean of travel, Max set off downstairs to talk to her parents. While on route, a hint of uncertainty crept into the brunettes mind. When making this decision, she hadn’t considered the potential of the shift in her parents perception due to the storm. Now finding herself at the bottom of the stairs, she saw her dad look over as he noticed someone coming down the stairs. Realizing it was too late to turn back, Max pressed forward. 

“Max… I don’t know…” Ryan said with obvious hesitation in his voice.

“Dad…please, I can’t lose her again,” the brunette replied back, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes and the desperation becoming in her voice.

It had been a hard sell, but eventually Max had been able to convince her dad to let her go, albeit with one small caveat. Initially wanting to take the second car and drive down on her own, but Ryan was having none of that. Eventually they settled on him driving her down himself as that was the only way he would be comfortable with his daughter returning to the decimated town. Now with the transportation nailed down, Max returned to her room to formulate a plan to prevent this Max from backing out of the trip. Eventually, she decided on leaving a note to her other self, suggesting that returning to Arcadia Bay was in her best interest. If that didn’t work, the brunette would try a less polite means of convincing herself, but she was confident that it wouldn’t come to that.

Max,

This is…well… you more or less.  
I just convinced our dad to take you back to Arcadia Bay, and if I come back tomorrow I better find myself there. He’ll be driving…I know, but it was the only way to get us there. Try not to act surprised.

I know you’re scared of seeing the damage caused by your choice, but you should be terrified of the idea of losing Chloe again.

She needs you… just as much as you… just as much as we need her.

Don’t fuck this up.

<3 Mad Max


	27. Chapter 27

** Chapter 27 Thursday the 17th \- Morning **

 

Deeming it prudent, should the blonde require any assistance, it was decided that Max would skip her afternoon classes on the day of the service. While recognizing the potential importance of the role, the prospect of having a shortened school day certainly had its appeal. As taking a half day on Thursday meant only having one class, after having dropped English AP early in the semester due to the workload. Victoria had suggested the idea, but the brunette likely would have done so regardless. After the trauma of the previous week, attempting to resume going a normal life thus far had proved to be a struggle, as academic pursuits seemed trivial in comparison. In the event of finding justice for Chloe, the brunette would have to find some way to at least attempt to live a normal life. But for the moment, considering what was at stake, the current lesson for her Art of Science course held little appeal.

Another factor for the brunette’s reluctance to attend class was the increase in attention she had become an unwilling recipient of. Having been witness to the events in the women’s restroom and her subsequent confrontation with Wells, she had become a hot topic for gossip among the schools populous. While traversing the campus, Max frequently felt the eyes of those around her, as she would catch people whispering whilst pointing in her direction. Struggling with the newly acquired notoriety, the brunette attempted to navigate the halls as inconspicuous as possible. However, that possibility ended abruptly as she was approached by Dana on the way to class. After hearing her name called out, the brunette could almost feel the lasso around her waist as the cheerleader pulled her in.

“Hey Max… I just want to see how you were doing. It seems like we haven’t talked in forever.”

“Hey Dana… I’m doing okay. I’ve just been staying in… trying to get my shit together.”

“Well it seems like Victoria is helping you with that,” the cheerleader replied, her tongue firmly in cheek.

“Yeah…” the brunette froze, hesitant to give Dana the confirmation she was looking for. “She’s been a good friend these last few days… it helps having someone know what you’re going through.”

“Is that all?” the cheerleader asked with a smirk. “I guess those moans I heard the other day were coming from a different dorm.”

“We’re not…” Max protested, her face having turned bright red.

“Oh hush girl, I’m not stupid. But I’m not judging… I think you two are cute.”

“Thanks?” the brunette responded in the form of a question after her face somehow turning a darker shade of red.

.

With the ring of the bell, Max made a beeline toward the exit, relieved to escape the confines of the class room. Somehow, she had managed to get through the morning, albeit in a manner rendering her unable to recount a single topic contained in the lecture. For the most part, the brunette had check out mentally after taking a seat, having only shown up to keep another unexcused absence from being added to her record. The class had been relatively uneventful; this is until it had become insufferable in the final moments in anticipation of the bell.

Unable to focus on anything else, Max brushed past a few classmates while on route to the dorms. Arriving first to the meeting, the brunette feverishly paced back and forth in effort to pass the time. Finally, upon hearing a knock, she swung the door open with vigor, ready to complain about having been forced to wait for the blonde. On the verge of doing so, the brunette’s mouth opened before suddenly having her breath taken away. As it turns out, the best way to make Max forget why she was angry was a spontaneous kiss from a particular blonde.

_Good to know, Victoria thought after breaking the kiss and flashing her mischievous smirk at the brunette._

“Damn it, Victoria,” Max said as she pouted, “I was already to start bitching about how long I had to wait for you… but noooo, someone had to go and be all cute.”

“I know… I’m the worst right?” Victoria teased while entering the room.

 

Prior to calling an end to the evening, Max and Victoria agreed to regroup prior to putting their plan in motion. The intention being, it would afford the two of them time to go over the plan while Victoria prepared for the service. The strategy was for Victoria to arrive early, providing an opportunity to assess the dynamic in the Prescott household prior the arrival of quests. After which, Victoria was to sympathize and help the family prepare in a manner deemed appropriate given the situation. Since Victoria had met Nathan’s family on numerous occasions, it was likely they would be receptive to the idea. At some point, Victoria was to inquire Kristine on the fate of her brother’s personal belonging, claiming that Nathan had an item of hers in his procession at the time of the shooting. During the initial planning, Max had identified Kristine as a potential source of pertinent information. While the daughter was less likely to know anything critical, she would be more likely to provide intel, either knowingly or otherwise. In the event the effort proved fruitless, Victoria would move on to the other contingency options.

Feeling as though they were prepared for what was coming, Max’s thoughts turned mischievous. Noticing that Victoria seemed oblivious to what was going on around her, the brunette reached for her camera. Quietly moving the Polaroid to her face, she decided to capture the image of Victoria, as she appeared deep in thought, to show the intensity that could be seen on her face. Doing her best to line up the shot unnoticed, Max quickly snapped the picture, catching Victoria off-guard from the flash.

“Hey… what was that for, bitch?” Victoria snapped sarcastically.

“You just had this look of intent and… focused and…,” Max paused before stammering on, “and I thought you looked cute so…” Max continued, allowing her voice to trail off whist offering the blone her best puppy dog eyes.

“Oh? Let me see?” Victoria asked as Max handed her the picture. “What are you talking about? You perfectly captured my resting bitch face,” Victoria proclaimed with a smirk.

“Yeah, but it’s a cute resting bitch face,” Max teased, before sticking out her tongue.

“Oh! So now you’re saying I have resting bitch face? You are so going to get it,” countered Victoria, before pulling Max on to the bed to commence a tickle assault.

Eventually, the moment of truth arrived, and with that they were set on their course. Isolated in her dorm room, minutes seemed like hours, as Max awaited word from Victoria. Glancing frequently at the clock, the brunette became increasingly discouraged as time appeared to have slowed to a crawl. Feeling absolutely helpless, in moments such as this, Max wished for the power to fast forward through time. It had been over an hour since the blonde left and there had been no word since. Now that the plan had been set in motion, there was little for Max to do but keep her phone close and wait.

The uncertainty that accompanied the wait proved to be the most strenuous aspect of the entire ordeal that Max had encountered thus far. Idle moments, left with only her inner thoughts, turned excruciating for the brunette. Faced with nothing to do, no immediate task at hand, her mind was left to wander to topics better set aside for the moment. Drifting first to the light house, to the storm, and to Chloe, as the brunette found herself back at the last moments they shared together.

_Fuck that, I can’t make that choice Chloe. You’re my number one priority._

_No Max, you’re the only one who can._

“Why did I do it?” Max said aloud after she found herself back in her dorm, “Why did I go back?”

The option to simply tear the photo and leave Arcadia Bay to its fate had occurred in the moment. The brunette had seriously considered it, and at the time, had nearly done so. But the combination of Chloe’s plea and weight of the lives hanging in the balance caused her to use the photo. Looking back, in her lowest moments, while aware of the selfishness of the thought, Max regretted her choice.

Lost in this train of thought, Max continued to ponder how things would’ve turned out in that reality. It was probable that there would be at least some survivors, but as to who or how many, one could only guess. But as a consequence, she decided that the events that had transpired on her journey to the Two-Whales Diner likely still would’ve materialized. As a result, that meant everyone that had been saved would’ve almost certainly died, including Joyce, Warren, and Frank. As she considered that possibility, Max wondered if the guilt over that choice would’ve been worse than what she felt for sacrificing Chloe. Would the trauma of that choice have eventually driven Chloe and her apart? The nighttime excursions that had become common place certainly made the scenario seem plausible. The brunette realized that she would never know, but that didn’t stop her from being plagued with doubt.

**BZZZ… BZZZ… BZZZ**

Suddenly, Max was pulled back to the present, as the vibrating sound of a phone rumbling across a hard surface broke her train of thought. After waiting for her senses to clear, she reached for her phone, immediately relieved after noticing the message was from Victoria.

**Victoria:** On my way back now. I think I have something.

 

With a knock signaling Victoria’s arrival, Max swung the door open before embracing the blonde more enthusiastically than intended.

“Hey there… I missed you to,” Victoria said with a smile before giving Max a kiss.

After the two had finished getting reacquainted with each other, Victoria offered a quick debrief on what had transpired at the Prescott’s. As far as the blonde could tell, phase one of operation Drain the Swamp had completed its objective. Not sensing an opportunity before the service started, Victoria chose to wait until the environment was relatively subdued to broach the subject.

“I asked Kristine about Nathans stuff like we had talked about,” Victoria began before pausing to give Max a chance at guessing what happened next. “Sean rented a storage room to keep his things until they had a chance to sort through it.”

“Good… that sounds promising,” Max said as she pondered the potential ramifications. “So… now we just have to find were it is.”

“Actually, I already got that covered,” Victoria replied, unable to hide her sense of accomplishment. “It’s unit 311 AB Storage.” Taking note of the concerned look on the brunette’s face, she struggled to suppress a smirk before ending the suspense. “Relax… I saw it on some papers in the kitchen.”

Experiencing a sense of apprehension over the ease in which the information was acquired, Max nevertheless decided the intel presented an opportunity to good to let pass. Initially set on accompanying the brunette, Victoria was beyond upset when Max was insistent on investigating the storage unit alone. The reaction was not entirely unexpected, as she had elected to not share some of the more disturbing details of her adventure with Chloe. As difficult as it was to reject the request, the brunette refused to allow the possibility of Victoria suffering the same fate as Chloe. It had been devastating, to put it mildly, to witness Chloe drop lifelessly after being shot by Mr. Jefferson, and Max would do anything to prevent another from meeting the same end as a result of her actions.

“I can’t...,” Max paused in effort to mask the nerves she felt. “I’m sorry… but I have to do this alone.”


	28. Chapter 28

** Chapter 28 Thursday the 17th \- Evening **

 

Too take advantage of the cover of darkness, Max decided to wait for nightfall before investigating the storage unit. Although the rewind was available, the brunette deemed it advantageous to be as inconspicuous as possible in order to minimize its use. If everything went according to plan, she’d return without her absence being noted, as the nighttime curfew was being enforced with increase stringency after the events of the prior week. Preparing to leave, Max couldn’t help but smile at the bag Victoria had made for her. Despite the blonde’s disappointment over not accompanying the hipster, she still resolved to help in any means available. It had been unnecessary, but ridiculously cute, and Max didn’t have the heart to tell Victoria that she wouldn’t need the spy bag she had put together.

Let’s see… a flashlight… box cutter… mask and gloves. She must think these powers make me James Bond, Max thought with a laugh as she approached the exit.

Entering the courtyard outside the dorms, Max was relieved to find the area deserted. Moving through the walkway, she moved at a brisk pace, before taking cover against a brick wall after sensing the presence of another. In the enclave in the next building, reminiscent of the previous week, there was a figure fumbling in the darkness outside. As had been the case previously, the figure proved to be a drunken Principle Wells. Frustrated over the difficulty of gaining entrance to the building, the man’s slurred musings likely carried further than intended.

“This is all that blued hair bitch’s fault... and our illustrious security chief,” the principle murmured through garbled words. “She never should’ve been there in the first place. Well if people think I’m just... what the fuck is with this lock!?!”

In the midst of the Wells’ drunken ranting, Max had begun to sneak around him, confident that she would be able to repeat her success. The attempt was initially successful before the man’s outburst over the door lock. When deciding to sneak past, Max hadn’t accounted for the fact that during the last attempt, Wells didn’t have the added pressure of the school shooting on his shoulders, therefore the drunken stupor was less rage infused. Caught off-guard by the outburst, she lost her footing while attempting to sneak by in a crouched position. Having lost her balance, the brunette’s right knee collided with the pavement.

“Ahhh…” Max cried out, recoiling in pain.

“What the…” Wells shrieked, frantically turning around to find the brunette meekly staring back at him. “Miss Caulfield… What the hell are you doing out here?”

“I… I was just…” Climbing to her feet, Max considered her options, before deciding to not bother with an explanation. “Screw this…” the brunette answered flatly before turning to continue down the sidewalk.

“Wait… where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Don’t worry about it…” the brunette offered dismissively, while attempting to walk off the knee pain.

Rounding the edge of the wall dividing the dorms from the main building, Max took cover in the darkness. With a deep breath, she concentrated, raised her right hand as time crept to a halt before going slowly in reverse. Watching as Wells traversed backwards before returning his attention to the troublesome door, Max released her grip on time, wincing as the cranial pressure from the rewind subsided. Disappointed over having to rewind this early in the endeavor, the brunette sighed as she continued on.

 

Arriving at AB storage, Max surveyed the area to determine the optimal means of entry. Initially planning to sneak in from the back, the security forced the brunette to rethink her strategy, after it proved to be more extensive than anticipated. A barbed wire fence with a retractable barricade surrounded the complex, but served as more of deterrent rather than defense, as there was no guard stationed by the entrance. Lacking the necessary tools needed to circumvent the fence, Max was forced to utilize a more direct approach, as the entrance was significantly more inviting. Seeing no preferable alternative, the brunette approached the storage facility toward the well-lit entrance, making no effort to conceal her presence. The entire facility consisted of several buildings, a main office and multiple long rectangular buildings that consisted of the storage units themselves. Sidestepping the barricade, Max proceeded to the main building, before pausing after turning the first corner.

“A surveillance camera?” Max mused, before disregarding it completely. “To bad V didn’t pack any chaff grenades,” the brunette continued with a laugh, having thought back to the opening section of Metal Gear Solid.

Upon reaching the office door, Max broke the window with a rock before reaching in to release the lock. After entering the office, the brunette paused, smiling to herself while allowing for a brief moment of self-gratification. Exhaling a sigh, she decided it was time to continue forward, or continue backward as that sounded more appropriate. With a moment a concentration and a raise of her right hand, time began to slowly rewind back to the point before she had entered the storage facility. With her entry into the facility now undone, the brunette grimaced as the pressure from the rewind subsided before reaching for the key to the Prescott unit. Exiting the office, Max proceeded toward the intended destination, counting the number of units as she approached.

“315... 313... And there it is… 311,” Max confirmed, while approaching the door.

 

As the lock disengaged, Max took a moment to gather her senses to prepare for whatever laid in store beyond the door. With a sharp exhale, she steadied herself before opening the door and turning on the light. Opening her eyes after the squinting due to the sudden change in brightness, the awaiting sight left the brunette with more than a moderate sense of disappointment. It wasn’t as though she expected to find a literal smoking gun, although that certainly would’ve been convenient, there had been hope for a sign indicating that she was on the right track.

“Really? No big arrow… no flashing sign saying, “evidence, right here,” the brunette muttered sarcastically.

With the unit containing no obvious indication that the contents of the darkroom were located within, Max sighed despondently, while moving further into the area. Despite the lack of recognizable items, the room was far from empty, as it contained a large amount of boxes. Resigned to the task that lay before her, the brunette began examining the boxes. Noticing the many of them were sealed, Max smiled after remembering a box cutter was among the items in the bag that Victoria had packed.

“Touché V… touché,” the brunette muttered, slicing open the first few boxes before sliding the cutter into her back pocket.  

After going through the first couple of boxes and finding nothing of particular interest, frustration started to seep into her subconscious.

“Wowser… the super hero life has a lot more unpacking than I would have expected,” Max said bitterly, complaining to the room.

The first few boxes consisted of primarily junk from Nathans dorm room. As Max continued her search, a sense began to build as though she was getting closer to the prize. After searching for almost an hour, she came upon items recognized from the darkroom for the first time. Filled with a renewed sense of determination, her effort intensified. Finally, the brunette obtained a measure of success. The box had contained various papers from the dark room discovered in the initial timeline. Toward the bottom of the box, was the letter from Nathan’s psychiatrist detailing the extent of his condition and the implication Sean Prescott had knowledge of his son’s problems. Also included in the box were the menacing notes that Sean had written to his son.

Despite feeling some semblance of accomplishment at the discoveries, Max knew the evidence wouldn’t be nearly sufficient evidence to prove Sean Prescott’s guilt. Deciding that at best, the man could be found liable in civil court, but Max found it unlikely that this would deal the decisive blow that had become the only acceptable option.

Unable to deny the fact that she was becoming discouraged, Max had to summon the will to press on. Having cut open the last box, the brunette slid the small box into its makeshift holster in her back pocket. In that last box however, she uncovered an important piece of evidence; the initial bid for the construction of the underground bunker, complete with Sean Prescott’s signature. This could be used as another knot around the noose that would hang him but still only on the civil court. Max hadn’t found any evidence proving that he had direct knowledge of the crimes committed or that he and been personally involved. But there were still no photo’s, no computer, and of course; no smoking gun. Resigning to the fact that she had found all that there was to find, Max decided it was time to leave.

Having taken one final look through the contents of the storage room, Max gathered the items she would be taking, trying her best to take solace in the items she did find, rather than what she didn’t find. Evidence in hand, the brunette raised her right hand before rewinding everything back to its original place, thereby removing any trace of her presence. Releasing her grip on time, the brunette again recoiled at the progressively increasing pain, before feeling the familiar sensation of blood pooling on her upper lip.

“Shit!” the brunette gasped, before moving a hand to catch the blood from dripping to the floor.

Now feeling a heighten sense of urgency to leave, Max whipped the blood on her sleeve after finding no alternative within reach. Making her way to the entrance to the storage unit, the brunette cracked the door to survey the immediate area. Finding it deserted, she opened the door to step out into the hallway. In the next instant, Max faintly heard a whoosh of air before a blunt object collided with her temple, dropping her to the floor. Prior to losing consciousness, Max could hear muffled voices and what appeared to be the figures of two men standing over her.

 


	29. Chapter 29

** Chapter 29 **

Max opened her eyes to the sight of a lighthouse overlooking the devastated remains of a town below. As the remnants of Arcadia Bay came into view, a caravan of dump trucks sped past in the opposite direction, blocking her line of sight. Momentarily disoriented by the brightness of the headlights, the brunette’s eyes blinked rapidly, having become desperate to survey the damage left in the wake of the storm. With her vision coming back into focus, Max was taken aback by the extent of the damage. Aerial footage provided by helicopters had been shown during the media coverage, but the images on screen paled in comparison to witnessing the devastation first hand. Taking note of the distress in the brunette’s demeanor over the scene before them, Ryan reached out to clasp his daughter’s hand. 

“Sweetie… how are you holding up?” he asked with concern while keeping one eye on the road.

“It’s… it’s just a lot worse than I remembered,” Max stammered out in response, trying mask the fact that she was seeing the damage for the first time.

Ryan slowly exhaled before offering the brunette a solemn nod and a reassuming squeeze of her hand before returning his full attention to the road. As the car proceeded closer to the town, the damage became even more pronounced. The news reports looked to be fairly accurate from what Max could tell. The center of town had been the hardest hit, caught directly in the storm’s path leading to Blackwell; the structures had largely been reduced to rubble. Whereas, the outlying regions on the northern and southern edges of town managed to maintain a semblance of their structural integrity. Outside of clearing some of the major road ways, it appeared as though very little had been done in terms of actual clean up, as initial efforts had been focused on rescue.

Having entered the town proper, the only road available to them was through the heart of the town down Arcadia Bay Avenue. Unfortunately, the route also required traversing directly passing the Two-Whales Diner. Their pace having slowed to a crawl due to the National Guard directing traffic, Max had ample opportunity to recall the traumas of the destruction during the trip down memory lane. Little more than charred remains of the wood frame occupied the site that had formerly been the diner. After the explosion resulted in the deaths of those inside, the storm had nearly removed any trace of what had transpired.

No longer able to withstand the torment of the site, Max forced an effort to look away, only to be startled by another stark reminder of the storms devastation. Towering over the vehicle, the sight of the whale carcass proved to be quite imposing as they crept passed. Barely able to question why the whale hadn’t yet been removed, the brunette was faced with additional images of the horrors faced in the alternate timeline. Further down the road, Max encountered more destruction that conjured memories of what she witnessed while on route to the diner that night. Rubble and debris lay everywhere; in the midst of collapsed apartments was the image of the Alyssa falling to her death and downed powerlines recalled the fisherman that had been electrocuted before managing to save them both. An overturned truck brought the image of the man pinned underneath to the forefront of her mind. The sound of the man screaming still rang in the brunette’s ear, as he called out frantically for assistance. Desperate, the brunette had been able to free the man, but the image of her failed attempts remained burned into her subconscious.

The sights and sounds that came with the return to Arcadia Bay eventually overwhelmed Max. Anticipating the onset of a panic attack, she forcefully turned away before closing her eyes in effort to suppress the ghosts around her. Having learned the location of the temporary shelters for the survivors, Ryan turned off the main street to proceed in that direction. The worst of her symptoms now in remission, the hipster’s eyes opened to the site of the shelter as they approached. Proving to be as depressing as expected, from the outside, the site appeared to be little more than a collection of olive green tents. Now at the outskirts of the complex, they were stopped by an officer to inquire their names and reason for being there, who subsequently directed them to the tents. Unable to delay any further, Max reached for the phone to inform Chloe of her arrival. Upon selecting the appropriate contact, the brunette’s impatience turned to distress as the phone rang only once before going to voicemail.

 

The interior of the tents matched the depressing exterior Max had observed on approach. Upon entering the first tent, the desperation in the air was palatable to the brunette. The minimal amenities consisted primarily of small cots and curtain walls to afford a measure of privacy to the occupants. Maneuvering through the tent, Max came face to face with the heartache caused by the storm. Therein, was a teenager still overcome with grief as he hid his face in his hands and cried. Further in, the brunette came across an intense argument between two people, seemingly choosing to lash out over trivial matters as their preferred method of coping with the trauma.

With no blue haired girls in sight, Max considered moving on to the next before spotting a familiar individual out of the corner of her eye. Approaching slowly, the brunette recognized the person as Samuel, the spirit animal talking janitor, formerly of Blackwell Academy. Noticing her approach, the man’s face brightened as the sight of a familiar face.

“Why hello, young Max. I’m relieved to see that you are well.”

“Hi Samuel… what are you doing here? I heard you got out before the storm hit.”

“I did young Max, but I had to come back, come back to help… however I can. Is that why you have returned?”

“Sort of… I came back to find someone… have you seen Chloe Price?”

“Oh, Miss Price… never before have I seen a girl dealt a worse fate. I haven’t seen her since this morning though… but Mr. Madsen was around earlier.”

“Thanks Samuel… tell the squires I said hi.”

“You’re welcome, Max,” the former janitor replied before offering his predictably creepy smile. “They already know.”

Grateful to be finished with that conversation, Max found her way back to the entrance of the tent. Samuel was nice enough, but the brunette couldn’t help but be creeped out by the man, always rambling on about what the squires had told him. Refocusing on the task at hand, the brunette made her way to the next tent. The entire complex of shelters had been laid out in a square with an open space occupying the interior of the square. While on route, she managed to spot a familiar looking mustachioed man.

“Hey David,” she exclaimed after running to greet him.

“Hey Max,” he replied, seeming to have to force a smile on his face. “I didn’t know you were coming back… Chloe didn’t mention… she was pretty upset when she got her.”

“Yeah… I wanted to surprise her… where is she?”

“She’s probably still back at the house digging through what’s left of the place.”

“Okay, thanks,” the brunette replied, but before she could take her leave, David had stopped her to offer him some parting words.

“And thanks Max… thanks for looking after her. Chloe’s going to need you after what happened to Joy… after what happened to Joyce… and she’s all I got left.”

After returning to offer David a hug, Max bid him farewell before departing in search of Chloe. Since the Price house was within a couple of blocks of the survivor area, Ryan stayed behind to talk with David and other survivors to learn more about what had transpired since the storm hit. Initially, he had been reluctant to let his daughter go alone, although he eventually consented, but only under the pretense of remaining in contact via calls or text messages.

Agreeing to her father’s terms, Max set off in search of the brunette. Unfortunately, the search had to take place in her old neighborhood. Weaving through various piles of debris, the brunette took in the scene of the damaged homes overlaid with images from when she had lived here. Some houses fared better than others, but the damage was relatively minor when compared to the devastation inflicted on other areas. The extent of the damage seemed to vary significantly from house to house. Older houses tended to fare better, with the damage limited to missing portions of the roof or walls. Newer houses, on the other hand, typically sustained more damage, often with substantial portions of the structure missing or having collapsed.

Finally reaching Chloe’s house, Max paused for a moment, unsure of the reception she would receive from the brunette. Swallowing hard before gathering her nerve, she pressed on towards the house. The Price residence had fared relatively well, having only lost most of the roof and a portion of the southern wall to the storm. Having reached the entryway of the front door, which had been left open, the brunette called out Max sheepishly.

“Chloe… Chloe, are you here?”

“Max?” the brunette shouted a moment before sticking her head over the upstairs railing. “Max! What are you doing here?”

The words weren’t even out of her mouth before she came rushing down the stairs to greet the hipster. Clearly overjoyed by her arrival, Chloe threw her arms around the brunette and held her in a tight embrace.

“I was so mad at you,” the brunette managed to gasp out through the tears. “I thought you couldn’t come back yet?”

“I know, Chloe… I’m sorry,” Max said, succumbing to tears of her own. “I was scared, but I realized… I realized there was only one thing that scared me more… and that was losing you.”

“Jeez… you must love me or something,” the taller girl countered with a mischievous smirk.

“Oh… shut up,” the brunette snapped back before surprising Chloe by pulling her into a kiss.

If these were to be her last moments with Chloe, Max planned to make the most of them. Eventually the two girls settled down after getting reacquainted with each other, before venturing upstairs hand in hand. When the brunette arrived, Chloe had been searching through the remains for any item of sentimental value. As they entered what had been the master bedroom, Max saw a myriad of items laid out on the floor, before coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of photos of William on the floor. The two girls just shared a knowing look of compassion before sitting down to sort through them together.

 


	30. Chapter 30

** Chapter 30 – Thursday the 17th, 8 pm **

As Max slowly regained consciousness, her blue eyes snapped shut after being exposed to the presence of a bright light. Disoriented, she struggled to ascertain the chain of events that prelude to her current predicament.  Behind the glow of light, the surrounding area was obscured, as she found herself unable to determine her current whereabouts. The brunette had been arranged on her side, hands bound behind her, and legs posed in a manner to prevent toppling to either side. Recognizing the familiar umbrella enhanced lighting equipment used in photography, along with the accompanying backdrop, the décor suggested she found herself in a photography studio. Abruptly, the realization came and with the location dawning on the brunette, her entire body became tense before screaming in panic.

“Oh, Max! You fucked up my shot!” Mr. Jefferson screamed in rage at her. “But please don’t worry; we have all the time in the world. For now.”

“Damn… you really are a sick fuck, aren’t you?” another voice chimed in.

“Well she wouldn’t have fucked up my shot if you just let me dose her.” Mr. Jefferson countered at the other voice.

“Hmm, but… then she would’ve had a hard time telling us what she knows, don’t you think?” the other man retorted in a chiding tone.

_Whew, at least they didn’t dose me with that shit yet. Max mused internally, before pondering potential ways the oversight could be used to her advantage._

“Fine… whatever, she’s awake now,” Mr. Jefferson replied dismissively. “Let’s just get this over with so I can get back to my shoot.”

Subsequently, the focus of both men shifted toward their captive, as a tinge of panic run down the hipster’s spine. Stepping toward the girl, the light became situated behind the two men, casting towering shadows and creating the appearance of a dark aura, making their presence all the more terrifying. No longer obscured behind the light, the identity of the other was revealed to be that of Sean Prescott. With reveal of Jefferson’s associate, Max realized who was responsible for her uninhibited state of consciousness. Recoiling at the thought, the brunette felt a sense of gratitude toward the man for sparing her, at least momentarily, from the effects of the drug. With the photo shoot on hold, Jefferson firmly grasped his captive before positioning her against a wall.

With the two men standing before her, Max couldn’t help but take notice of their contrasting images. Jefferson stood, staring directly at her, with a disturbing desire visible in his eyes. He wore blue jeans with the ends rolled up and brown loafers, along with a white buttoned up dress shirt and his trademark black and white framed glasses. The sleeves on his shirt had been partially rolled up, indicative of the man’s hands on approach and willingness to get his hands dirty. The entire ensemble put together was remarkably reminiscent of that from their previous encounter in the darkroom.

Prescott, on the other hand, stood before her in a stark contrast to Mr. Jefferson. Wearing a navy blue business suit, with a white dress shirt and black tie, the man’s attire served as an indication that he had no intention of getting his hands dirty. Clearly, the businessman’s preference was to allow his coconspirator to handle any physical altercations of the encounter. As Prescott stood, taking in the image of the brunette bound against the wall, his facial expression was indicative of how uncomfortable he had become with the current situation. Reluctantly, the man stepped forward to initiate the forthcoming interrogation.

“Okay, Ms. Caulfield,” Sean Prescott opened in his most charming voice, “we’re going to ask you some question… your answers to these questions will determine how miserable the final hours of your life are.”

“So Max,” Mr. Jefferson interjected, taking over the conversation, “here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell what you know and how you found out about this place.”

“Found out about… What are you talking about?” Max retorted, genuinely shocked over the inquiry as there shouldn’t have been any evidence that she had been there. “I’ve never been here before,” Max pleaded with desperation evident in her voice.

“Oh come on Max, don’t lie,” Prescott implored her, “this will be much… much easier if you just tell us the truth. We know you were here.”

“She didn’t know about the surveillance,” Jefferson suggested to Prescott before returning his attention to the brunette. “I bet you thought you were so clever… that you had covered your tracks. But you had no idea we’ve been on to you for days.”

Shit! Max thought to herself. When the brunette had journeyed out the Prescott barn earlier in the week, the thought to look for cameras had never occurred. While she did rewind back to remove any trace of her in the darkroom, the cameras still would’ve caught her entry and departure. Suddenly, feeling as she had already been defeated, Max felt resigned to her fate.

“How’d you think you found out about the storage unit in the first place?” Jefferson inquired boastfully. “We let you find it… needed you someplace you could be taken unnoticed,” he continued, an arrogant grin punctuating the statement.

“Sounds like you already know everything,” Max replied with false bravado, “what do you need me for then?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, Max, have you even been listening?” Jefferson scoffed as he replied.  “We need to know how you found out this place and who you’ve been talking to,” pausing to smile before continuing. “It’s a shame really… maybe if you focused more on school you wouldn’t be here right now.” With sadistic grin forming in place of a smile he continued, “If you won’t talk… maybe we should ask Victoria…”

Unable to restrain herself, Max shouted out, “No, she doesn’t know anything,” before slouching over in resignation.

Knowing full well the thinly veiled threat against the blonde would draw that reaction, Jefferson pulled over a chair to put himself closer to eye level with the brunette. “Did I strike a nerve, Max? ... Now… if you’d prefer to keep Victoria from joining you in the retro zone, I suggest you cooperate…”

“What guarantees do I have that she won’t be harmed?” the brunette asked, probing for any level she may have.

“None… but your full cooperation is her only chance at survival.” Jefferson answered flatly.

Max considered employing the use of a rewind, but the power was of little use as long as her hands were still bound, as the process would do nothing to lessen her binds. Realizing that in her current state, there were no viable means of escape available, the brunette reluctantly decided to play along and hope for an opportunity would later present itself. Throughout the questioning, she was mindful to divulge as little as possible, while still providing plausible information as she feared the reprisal if they deemed her as uncooperative. It had taken some time, and emotional distress, but they finally relented with their questions. Max had been able to satisfy her captors by telling them that she had suspected that Kate had been drugged at the Vortex party and saw Nathan leading her away from the party. Witnessing them entering his truck, she decided to follow them, which eventually led her to the barn. The notion that Nathan had inadvertently led her to the darkroom proved to particularly believable as it played into their preconceived notion that the entire incident had been due to his mistakes.

Fortunately, Max was also able to use their little Q and A session to get some valuable intel on her captors. Observing the dynamic, and placing a few carefully worded questions of her own, the brunette was able to obtain intel that could potentially be used to cause a schism between the two men. The pair had found themselves to be unlikely allies, as beyond attending various Blackwell functions, there had been no prior dealings between the two. After Nathan had been taken into custody for Chloe’s death, they were each in scramble to cover their tracks. Encountering the other in the darkroom, or shelter as Prescott preferred to call it; Jefferson had laid out two scenarios for the elder Prescott. The first led to the arrest of either one or both of them in connection to the disappearances, a scenario that would likely lead to one turning on the other for a plea deal. The second, clearly being the preferable option, called for the two of them to work together to bury the evidence and have Nathan take the fall for everything. As a result, an uneasy partnership had been formed between the two. The two man had thought their tracks covered, that is until Max appeared on the barns surveillance footage. But that was only part of the story, Max wouldn’t find out about the other until Sean Prescott had left the darkroom.

“Alright, I’ll be on my way then.” Prescott finally said with an uneasy expression on his face. “I have to pick up… a few things.”

“About time,” Jefferson countered impatiently, “yeah… you do that; let me get back to work.”

“Just don’t kill her,” Prescott responded, “we might still need her.”

And with that Prescott was gone and Max was left alone with Jefferson in the darkroom again.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31 – Thursday, the 17th - PM**

“Finally,” Jefferson exclaimed as the door closed, “I thought he’d never leave. I’ve had to suffer through his shit for far too long, but… that’ll be over soon enough.”

Extruding arrogance, the man’s tongue had loosened considerably with the departure of his coconspirator. Sauntering over to his iPhone, Jefferson diverted attention to, in his mind, set the tone through music for the remainder of the evening. With panic settling in over the prospect of once again being exposed to the whims of madman, Max became desperate in searching for a means to turn his newly displayed arrogance to her advantage. Lost in thought, the brunette’s focus was broken by the sound if a terrifyingly familiar set of horns and the voice of David Tobin.

Now I’m a little bit crazy, out of my mind

I’m only slightly strange in the head

It’s all a little bit hazy, but I’m pretty sure

I’m gonna stay screwy instead

And I’m little bit Koo-Koo Ka-Ka, slightly deranged

“Oh, fuck no…” the brunette murmured, as the memory of her previous experience with the song came rushing back. Desperate to avoid being further subjected to a song that was a disturbing encapsulation of her captor, Max concentrated on the world around her before exerting the effort required to rewind back. 

“But… that’ll be over soon enough,” Jefferson teased, resuming his earlier boasting.

“How do you figure that?” Max asked, inquiring for more information.

“I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time,” Jefferson mused, in clear avoidance of the question. “Can you believe Nathan actually thought he could replicate what my work? Oh well… not like he’ll have a chance anymore,” he inferred while trying to read Max’s reaction.

“Like you care,” Max accused. “You just used… you would’ve killed him soon enough anyway.”

“You’ve always been smart Max, I’m impressed.” Jefferson answered, unable to hide his surprise. “But clearly not smart enough… otherwise you wouldn’t be here, now would you? But I think that’s enough stalling, time to get back to work,” he continued, filing a dose of his drug of choice.

Shit! Max thought as she began to rewind. I need to keep him talking

“But clearly not smart enough…” Jefferson repeated before Max interrupted this time.

“How smart where you when you let Nathan kill Rachel Amber?” Max countered, taking a page out of Chloe backtalk skill. “That’s what set this all in motion anyway.”

Mr. Jefferson was clearly taken aback by Max’s assertion, realizing the man had been thrown completely off balance; the brunette decided it was time to go all in.

“If you didn’t fuck up,” Max continued, becoming enthralled with the opportunity to vent her frustrations at the man who had been the source of so much misery. “Rachel and Chloe would still be alive, and you would still have your fucked up darkroom for you to take your subjects.” She concluded, finishing the tirade with a tone of condescension behind the word subjects in effort to further manipulate Jefferson’s response.

“That was Nathan, not me… it was all his fault!” Jefferson countered, now on the defensive. “That’s why he and his family are going to take the fall for all of it. That’s right, that whole family is going on for this and no one in this shit town will have any idea I was involved!”

Max celebrated the accomplishment with a mental fist bump after successfully getting Jefferson to reveal his plans. And reveal them he did, as once Max got him going, any sense of reservation the man may have had went by the waist side. With minimal prompting from the brunette, Jefferson went on to detail the intricacies of his entire plan. From the start, the intention was to use Sean Prescott to cover up the evidence, before subsequently turning on him. Since the darkroom had been equipped with twenty-four hour surveillance, Jefferson had been able to acquire all of the recordings of what had transpired there. After reviewing the contents of the footage and making a few choice selections, Jefferson would simply submit the footage to the media anonymously, of course under the caveat that the footage did not serve to implicate him in anyway.

“See it’s brilliant in its simplicity,” Jefferson concluded as though he were a Bond villain. “This is it,” he continued, while retrieving a flash drive from a table containing various supplies, “this is my get out of jail free card.”

Noticing the brunette staring intently at the flash drive, he continued to taunt her, “I bet you wish you could get your hands on this huh? But don’t worry Max; I’ll put it to go use.” Now with an exaggerated tone Jefferson continued, “So… now where were we? Oh, that’s right…”

That was as far as Mr. Jefferson got, deciding she had heard enough Max interrupted him with, “Actually… I was just leaving, but I’ll take the flash drive though.”

Responding initially with arrogance, Jefferson’s expression suddenly shifted to perplexed reservation after taking note of the particularly confident smile on the face of his captive. Surprised over the abrupt change in the brunette’s demeanor, the man attempted to reassert control over the dynamic in the room.

“And… how exactly do you plan on achieving that?”

Disregarding the question momentarily, Max pushed off against the ground to reach a standing position. Meeting eyes with her nemesis, she began to approach before offering a response.

“Well first… I’m going to free my hands…” the brunette began, before being interrupted by a scoff from Jefferson.

In the next moment, Max snapped the last bit of the duct tape that had bound her hands. Bringing them to the forefront, the brunette took a mental snapshot to savior the look of shock on the professor’s face. After a momentary pause, the hipster took off in a sprint to the corner leading toward the exit.

“How did you…” Jefferson stammered out before giving chase.

In addition to getting information out of Jefferson, Max also needed to stall for additional time before being subjected to another dose of the drug. Fortunately for her, the two men hadn’t searched the hipster thoroughly before applying the restraints, and it would be that oversight that provided Max a means of escape. Having been propped against a wall, Max had waited for a moment in which her captors had become preoccupied by their own squabbles to pay the brunette any attention. In this moment, Max had been able to retrieve the small box cutter located in her back packet. Subsequently, throughout the interrogation, Max had been slowly cutting through the duct tape that bound her wrists in anticipation of the right moment.

Rounding the corner before taking cover behind the large curtain, the brunette looked left to the sight of Jefferson barrowing down on her. An expression of rage had overtaken the man’s face as he closed in on his captive. With an arm outstretched toward her, Max instinctively held up her right hand, before watching Jefferson reverse course back to other end of the darkroom. Deciding on the most advantageous moment, she released her grip on time as it began to resume course.

Now I’m a little bit crazy, out of my mind

I’m only slightly strange in the head

It’s all a little bit hazy, but I’m pretty sure

Humming along with the lyrics of one of his favorite songs, Jefferson collected the items necessary to dose his subject. Turning to find the space the brunette had formerly occupied empty, the professor lost his grip on the items as they dropped to the floor before shattering. Cursing under his breath, he ran forward to take a closer look.

“Max… Max, where in the fuck are you?” Jefferson shouted, tossing aside various items in the area. Shortly thereafter, the effort abruptly came to a halt; he continued smugly, “you really think hiding behind the backdrop is going to help you? Come on… you’re smarter than this.” Having his words met with only silence, than man’s anger returned, “Fine! Have it your way!”

I’m gonna stay screwy instead

And I’m little bit Koo-Koo Ka-Ka, slightly deranged

Barking up the wrong tree

Waiting behind the curtain for the perfect moment, Max burst into motion as Jefferson continued the search. With the sound of the backdrop being tossed aside as cover, she took off toward the table to claim her prize. Hearing the commotion behind him, Jefferson cranked his head around to the slight of the formerly captive brunette absconding with his get out of jail free card.  

“Hey! How did…” Jefferson shouted in a mix of rage and disbelief while taking off in pursuit.

On route to the exit, the brunette narrowly avoided falling into the clutches of her assailant, with the man having come within arm’s reach. In midstride, Max glance over her shoulder, while raising her right hand to stop the man in his track. Unable to suppress a smile, she watched as Jefferson forward motion reversed, returning him to the moment he lifted the backdrop. 

“Fine! Have it your way!”

“… and then I’m going to take the flash drive, and be gone before you even know what happened,” the brunette murmured, finishing her earlier statement while eyeing her prize. Subsequently, she opened the bunker door before turning off the lights and shutting it behind her. With a final torque of the handle to the left, the brunette turned and ran up the cement steps toward freedom. Reaching the top, Max stopped to shut the trap door before fastening the paddle lock, thereby securing her adversary to the best of her ability.

“Too bad there isn’t cell service down there,” Max said with a laugh while gasping for breath before turning toward the exit. On approach, a familiar sensation retuned indicating the presence of blood dripping down her lip. “Crap,” the brunette murmured after confirming the substance was in fact blood having taken a sample with her hand.

Pushing the concern over the occurrence of another nosebleed from her mind, Max continued on route to the exit. Finding the barn doors unlocked, she pushed open the right door before taking her first step toward freedom. Inhaling a breath of fresh air, the brunette exhaled with satisfaction, before a sharp pain piercing through her mind brought her forward motion to an abrupt halt. Disoriented, hands clutched at the side of her head, she attempted to withstand the sudden onset of pain. Without reprieve, a second spike cascaded through the hipster’s temple, dropping her to the ground.  

“Ahhh, shit,” the brunette yelped, massaging her temples in an effort to alleviate the pain. “Fuck… not now… I need to get out of here.”

Kneeling on the ground, massaging her temples, Max lost any sense of anything transpiring around her. Writhing in pain, the brunette felt a sensation akin to a force pushing against her head from both sides with the intent of crushing her skull. There she remained for several moments until the pain began to recede before struggling to stand. Debating internally on whether she was able to continue on, the decision was made for her as the sound of Jefferson attempting to break through the hidden door broke her train of thought.

Having returned to a vertical position outside of the barn, Max realized she was faced with a choice after opening her bag. Contained within was the photo of Victoria, taken while they were finalizing the preparations for her trip to the Prescott Estate. After retrieving the Polaroid, Max contemplated the options available to her.

In her left hand was the flash drive, and presumably contained within was the evidence needed to bring down both Jefferson and Prescott. But until she could do so, everyone associated with the brunette would be in danger. Was she willing to place those she cared for as risk to complete her objective? Max knew full well that the darkroom wouldn’t hold Jefferson long and when he got out he would be a desperate man on the verge of losing everything. There was also the matter of her physical condition to consider. Despite being successful, the escape had taken a lot out of the brunette, and the possibility of collapse due to exhaustion warranted real consideration. If her health continued to deteriorate, it was possible to Jefferson or Prescott to reacquire their captive before she would be able to deliver the evidence. In the event of that possibility, the prospects of a second escape were grim, and conceivably impossible if her powers were lost to her from over use. The question became; did she have the physical and mental strength to continue through what would assuredly be a long night?

Now Max pondered the option in her right hand. Even though she secured the flash drive, its contents were not assured as the possibility existed that Jefferson hadn’t been truthful of it nature. Through a photo jump, the brunette would be able to inform her past self of the trap that waited at the storage unit, and subsequently alter the chain of events that led to her current predicament. But there were no assurances that the resulting outcome would be preferable to the present one. Knowing the end result of storage unit investigation could very well lend itself to an even greater danger. Using the photo was essentially a roll of the dice for the brunette, but also carried less inherent risks to those associated with her. Using the flash drive contained numerous variables, but was she willing to risk everything on a photo jump for the chance of finding herself in a better situation?

What should she choose? Use the flash drive or go back through the photo and alter the chain of events? Both options contained risks and both had the potential for success and failure. Realizing she had to make a decision now, she decided to go with her gut instinct. Max decided to… 

For the flash drive route, continue on to chapter 32. For the photo jump route, skip to chapter 41.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is, the reader choice that you’ve hopefully been anticipating. I tried to make a convincing case for and against both options, so I’m curious what kind of response there will be, but I’m hoping it will be relatively even. Feel free to vote based on what you think would be the best choice for Max, or what you think would make for the more compelling stories. I’m happy with both, which is why I decided to do the whole reader choice in the first place, since that wasn’t my original intent. 
> 
> So let me know, what path do you want to see? Flash Drive or Photo Jump. Let me know either through comment (preferable),direct message, or @ me on twitter @TripleB851


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32 (FD1)– Flash drive - thursday 17th PM

As Max thought of the decision that lay before her, the answer became clear; the choice had to be the flash drive.

The prospect of a photo jump contained an unacceptable amount of risk, as the potential of unforeseen consequences was just too great. While weighing the options, a deciding factor had been in large part the possibility someone close to her could potentially windup injured or worse. When setting forth on this path, the brunette was aware of the potential jeopardy she may be placed in, but only as it pertained to herself. Having witnessed the ill effects of her power first hand, placing anyone else in harm’s way was unacceptable. A greatest factor influencing her survival for the night was control, and by not using the photo, she would at least maintain a semblance of it. That was a risk Max just wasn’t willing to take, by not using the photo she would retain some semblance of control.

Prior experience had demonstrated the dire consequences associated with a photo jump. After the initial attempt, Chloe had ended up paralyzed and on her death bed, due to a car accident the brunette could have never foreseen. With her mind set, Max, afraid of the consequences, considered tearing the photo to eliminate the temptation. Nearly giving in to the impulse before deciding against it and tucked the photo back into her bag. As appealing as the idea was, the brunette couldn’t do it, recognizing the possibility for in a situation in which that could be her only means of escape. After realizing that any doubt or hesitation on her part would be a weakness; Max decided to only use the picture as an absolute last resort.

With a tinge of fear at the possibility of making the wrong choice, Max anxiously reached for out her phone to call Victoria. She became increasingly impatient as the phone rang before she finally answered on the fourth ring.

“Max?” Victoria shouted, suddenly feeling very awake. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“I… went out for a bit.” Max replied, trying to keep her emotions in check for Victoria’s benefit. “I’m sorry… I went to check out the storage unit… but I need you to pick me up at the gas station off Arcadia Bay Ave.”

“Max! That’s on the other side of town,” Victoria cried, becoming increasingly concerned. “What happened?”

“V… please, just come and get me,” Max responded with desperation apparent in her voice, “I’ll tell you when you get here, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” Victoria conceded, “I’ll be there soon.”

With the debilitating symptoms reduced to the level of a severe headache, Max began the trek from the Prescott barn to the gas station. Opting to traverse through the woods in order to reduce the risk of detection, she began to regret that decision shortly thereafter, as the reduced visibility applied to her as well. Weaving between the trees, Max made her way through the forest brushing aside small branches like cob webs in an ancient tomb. Struggling to maintain a sense of direction in the relative darkness, the brunette was forced to rely on the compass app on her phone after the GPS failed due to lack of service. Frequently glancing down to maintain her bearing, the brunette was startled by the surprise appearance of a familiar sight.

“Son of a… I thought I’d be there by now,” the brunette mumbled, whist scanning the surroundings. “I should at least… AHH!”

In the midst of assessing her progress, Max had been startled by the reoccurring sight of the translucent doe. Moving in to take a closer look, the brunette was again startled as the spirit animal abruptly took off through the woods before turning to face her again after stopping.  

“What the hell…” the hipster muttered, frustrated by the seemingly random appearance of the creature.”

Tilting its head to the side as an indication of confusion, the doe maneuvered in two small circles before once again taking off in the same direction.

“Wowser… am I really doing this,” Max mused at the realization the doe want her to follow. “Yep… looks like I am…”

After a few minutes of following, and second guessing, Max began to approach the edge of the woods. As the surrounding area became less dense, an appearance of light provided the much needed reassurance to continue on. Exhaling a sigh of relief after clearing the forest, the brunette surveyed the area before her. Noticing the doe had led her to the gas station, and that her previous trajectory would’ve come out well short of the intended destination, she turned to attempt some means of conveying her gratitude.

“… and it’s gone,” the brunette mused, finding the doe nowhere in sight. “Thanks…?”

Finally arriving at her destination, Max couldn’t help by smile after spotting the blonde in her car. Frequently glancing in all directions, Victoria sat with one hand on the steering wheel, tapping her thumb frantically, whilst chewing on her bottom lip. Finally noticing the hipster’s arrival, she blushed nervously after realizing the other girl had been watching her. Feeling a surge of emotions, Max jogged the rest of the distance greet her girlfriend.

“Oh, Victoria… thank god!” Max exclaimed as she threw her arms around her after getting in the car.

“Max, are you okay?” Victoria asked, taking immediate note of the blood still visible on the brunette’s face. “What happened?”

“Oh, right… the blood,” Max muttered, having forgotten about the nose bleed. “Yeah… that’ll happen sometimes if I rewind too much… Did I not tell you?”

“No!” the blonde answered, her exasperated by the lack of insight. “No, you did not.”

“It’s okay… I feel a lot better now,” Max pleaded, trying to ease her girlfriends concerns. “I just had to rewind a lot to escape.”

“Escape!? From what…”

“Oh… right, so after I got to the storage unit…”

Turning back onto the road, Max begun to explain what had happened. As she recounted the details from the leaving to the storage unit to escaping the darkroom, Max had received several gasps of shock and bewilderment. After bringing Victoria up to speed, while leaving out the choice she had to make, the two girls debated what the next move should be. There were no media outlets in town and they agreed that the police couldn’t be trusted with the evidence, there were no outlets that they were completely comfortable with. There was also the possibility that the flash drive didn’t contain enough evidence or everything that Mr. Jefferson had claimed it did.

 

“We need to find out what is on the flash drive!” Victoria insisted. “If we know what’s on it, we’ll know who to give it too.”

“Whoa… we aren’t doing anything,” the brunette interjected. “You’re going to drop me off… and then you’re going to get someplace safe.”

“What? The hell with that… I’m with you on this!”

“V… please, I can’t take that risk!” Max countered, “Jefferson and Prescott are still out there… if I meet them again… I can’t risk anybody getting hurt because of me.” After a short pause, she reached for Victoria’s hand, “I need to know you’re safe.”

“But you’re willing to risk their safety on the word of Mr. Jefferson?” Victoria questioned, becoming frustrated over how irrational the brunette was being. A short pause came over the car as those words hung in the air.

Ouch, that burned. Max thought to herself at Victoria’s word. Begrudgingly she had to acknowledge the blonde had a point. With the image of Chloe being shot by Jefferson still fresh in her mind, the brunette had become fixated on keeping those close to her safe. In doing so, she lost sight of the fact that the longer her pursuers were unable to find her, the more likely they were to take someone in her stead for leverage.

“Do you have any ointment for that burn?” Max asked trying to lighten the mood that had become increasingly tense in the car.

Unable to hide her smile at Max’s pun, she finally replied, “Sorry girl, I’m all out. You’re just going to have to deal.”

With the dynamic between the pair significantly improved, they had begun to function much more efficiently as a team. As a result they managed to come up with a solution that could potentially solve both problems. Although Max was initially reluctant, Victoria eventually convinced her that the best option available was to seek the aid of David Madsen. Although, the initial urge of optimism faded shortly thereafter, as the effort to contact the man came up empty.

“Crap… neither of them answered…,” the brunette murmured before allowing her voice to trail off. “Turn left at the light… maybe they’re at home.”

“And if they’re not?”

“Then we’ll check the flash drive.”

“Wait? Check it where?” Victoria asked as they got closer to their destination.

“Their house… we’ll knock,” Max replied before glancing at the girl driving the car, “and if they’re not there, we go in.”

Following the directions to the Price household, the pair arrived shortly thereafter. Finding no indication that the house was occupied, and having received no reply from either David or Joyce, Max and Victoria approached the door. After peering through the windows and finding the house deserted, a quick check of the front door revealed it to be locked. This as Victoria would point out, presented an obstacle to their entry.

“So how do we get in?” Victoria asked curiously.

“Easy… we just let are selves in,” Max replied.

Before Victoria had a chance to question how in fact she planned on doing that, Max walked up to the door and put her left elbow through the glass on the side of the door. After laughing at the look of bewilderment on the other girls face, Max reached through the broken window to unlock it. Having removed the barrier to entry, Max stepped inside before concentrating as she held up her right hand to rewind time back to before she had broken the window. As she rewound time, Max watched as the pieces of broken glass slowly lifted off the floor to return to their original place before merging together in one piece. With that done, Max unlocked the door before opening it to find a stunned Victoria staring back at her.  

“Sorry,” Max said while laughing, “I forgot you haven’t seen me do that yet.”

“Damn, that was badass Max,” Victoria admitted, “but can you warn me next time you pull some shit like that? From where I sat, we just reached the door, you disappear, and then the door opens.”

When Max turned to face the interior of the house she froze stiff. Her eyes didn’t see the dark entry way before her, instead she saw a 13 old Max chasing a 14 year old Chloe down the steps as they ran outside to play. Rounding corner into the kitchen were Chloe and William making pancakes just as they had done on that day he left to pick up Joyce from the grocery store. Max just stared in shock and she passed through the scenes from her past invisible to the other participants. Her heart was filled with a plethora of emotions; happiness at seeing loved ones in happier times, before bitterness over the fact that they been taken to soon. Max then drifted from the kitchen into the dining area, where she saw Chloe and the Other Max pouring over items that had been placed all over the table. As she moved closer to take a closer look, there was a tap on her shoulder followed by a gentle shake.

“Max! Are you okay?” Victoria asked concern written over her face. “You’re bleeding!”

“Uh…yeah,” Max choked out, before bringing a hand to her nose. “I was just… just seeing ghosts.”

After assuring Victoria that she was fine, the two girls went upstairs to Chloe’s room. Initially reaching for the door, Max abruptly pulled her hand back, realizing that this would be her first time in the room since the blunette had passed. Instantly feeling not up to the challenge, the hipster had to rely on assistance from Victoria to find the resolve to turn the handle and step inside. If entering the room had been difficult, actually seeing the state of the room was ten times worse for Max. It was exactly the same as Chloe had left it, as there didn’t appear to be a single item moved or out of place. After seeing this, Max felt the urge this area shouldn’t be disturbed as it now served as a shrine to her memory.

The bed was still spectacularly unmade and the American flag still hung inverted from the back window along with all of her posters and writing. In addition to the décor, clothes and various junk still laid spread throughout the room in true Chloe fashion. The sight of the old room felt like a punch to the stomach as it proved much more difficult for Max to be in this room than she had anticipated. Realizing how hard it was for Max to be back in this room, Victoria waited patiently until Max turned to face her. When the brunette finally managed to face her, Victoria immediately pulled her into an embrace at the sight of the tears running down the girls’ cheeks. After Max had regained some of her composure, Victoria leaned back and asked if she needed to leave. The hipster refused however, as she was determined to see this through.

Max made her way over to Chloe’s desk to find her laptop in its normal place. After waiting for what seemed like forever for the computer to boot up, Max plugged in the flash drive before trying to access its contents as quickly as she could. If it contained the footage that they needed they would be on the verge of taking Jefferson and Prescott down, if not, they would be back to square one now with a mad man after them.

“Here goes nothing…” she murmured, glancing over to the blonde.

With baited breath, Max double clicked on the flash drive icon to examine its contents. At first glance, several folders broken out by months and then sub folder for days were revealed. Seeing this as a positive sign, Max scanned the screen for the day of the Vortex Party where Kate had been drugged. Apparently Jefferson had been telling the truth as the footage had been broken down into hour long segments. Finding one for late that night, Max opened the file to a sight that left her with a feeling of disgust but also a tremendous sense of relief.

The footage showed a doped up Kate being carried into the darkroom by Jefferson and Nathan. Skipping forward to see Jefferson inject Kate with more drugs followed by him taking photographs, Max decided that was enough evidence as she felt she could no longer watch it. Having an even more difficult time watching the footage was Victoria, as she had come to hold herself responsible for what had happened to Kate that night. Finally the sight became too much for her and she had to step away causing Max to immediate get up to comfort her.

“Hey…we got what we need,” Max said while brushing a tear from the taller girls face. “We don’t have to watch anymore now.”

“Good…can we just upload it and get out of here please?” Victoria responded, tears still running down her face.

Max gave her the most reassuring smile that she could manage before sitting back down at the computer. A few mouse clicks later and suddenly her entire demeanor changed.

“Are you frickin’ cereal!?” Max shouted at the computer after realizing the internet was down. “We just can’t catch a break.”

“Uh… Max, the power’s out,” Victoria injected, flipping a light switch up and down. “We have to find somewhere else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this being up late. I didn't have as much time to work on this as I thought I would. Thank you to everyone that voted. Most of you voted for the flash drive option, so what do you think of Max's choices thus far?


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33 flash drive - Thursday 17th PM

Running out of options, the girls decided to return to Blackwell to upload the footage. The decision did contain the danger of running into Jefferson however, as if he were to recapture Max, Blackwell represented the best chance of doing so. Unable to think of another easily accessible computer, it was decided that Blackwell was the best option despite the risks associated with going there.

As they traversed the city streets on route to Blackwell, Max felt a sense of fear come over her. During the approach, the same doe from the forest made an appearance, running parallel in stride with the blonde’s vehicle. Slowing to a halt, the two girls sat in a tense silence waiting for a light to change before turning onto Blackwell Drive. While the blonde was fixated on the light, Max observed the doe in an effort to decipher the meaning behind another appearance of the spirit animal. Subsequently, the light turned green, and as they completed the turn the doe continued on in a perpendicular direction from their new heading.

Hmm… I hope we weren’t supposed to follow it… the brunette thought as she watch the doe fade in the distance.

As the silhouette of the campus appeared over the horizon, a set of excessively bright headlights in the opposite lane blinded the girls momentarily on its approach. The occupants in each car stared at the other intently before locking eyes as their line of sights passed the driver side windows. Recognizing the other driver as Sean Prescott, Victoria looked to Max wide eyed for some form of direction as the Mercedes did a quick U-turn to pursue the girls.

“Shit… Quick, V… turn left here…”

Eager to comply the blond did as she was told, turning left into the neighborhoods in front of Blackwell Academy. After noticing Prescott giving chase through the rear-view mirror, Victoria looked to Max with a look of anticipation.

“Okay… Please tell me there’s more to your plan… we’re not evading Star Destroyers here.”

“Wow… really?” the brunette responded with a look of bewilderment. “I didn’t know you had a nerdy side?”

“Focus, Max!” the girl in the driver seat shouted back, not bothering to be embarrassed about revealing her inner nerd. “How are we going to get out of this?”

“Relax, V… I know a few maneuvers… we’ll lose em,” the brunette smirked, teasing the blonde for her nerdy side before struggling to suppress a chuckle over the extent of the eye roll she received.

In an effort to placate the building level of nerves in the blonde, Max offered a reminder of the existence of her powers, before turning her attention to the car giving pursuit. Discerning they were in no immediate danger, with a reassuring smile, she clasped Victoria’s hand in her left and held up her right before beginning to concentrate. As the world blurred and came to a halt around them, the brunette felt the spike of pressure in her mind before time began to reverse itself. The confidence in her ability was clear on her face before she checked the rear-view mirror to confirm that Prescott was in fact going backwards. Although that display of confidence quickly dissipated into panic as it became apparent that their car was also traveling in reverse. As the initiator of the rewind, the brunette had always been able to function outside the reversal of time, and had anticipated that the same principle would likewise extend to the car. Suddenly their eyes met, with the accompanying look terror on their faces suggesting that they had both come to the same realization of the precarious position they found themselves in.

“Uhm…Max?” the blonde interjected, finally breaking the silence that had overtaken the vehicle. “How does this help us?”

“Shit…I didn’t think we’d go back with him…”

Reaching the threshold of the rewind, time resumed its normal trajectory while Max begrudgingly released her grip, as the cranial pressure became unbearable. Reflexively pulling her hand from the blondes grasp, she attempted to withstand the torment while Victoria called out in concern. As the worst of the pain subsided, the brunette began to formulate a potential means of escape after making a futile effort at placating the concerns of her girlfriend. Fortunately, they had been afforded a measure of time, as Prescott seemed content to merely follow them, at least for the moment, rather than force a confrontation. In search of a measure to turn the situation to their favor, Max scanned the surrounding area as they sped through the neighborhood.

“He’s just following us?” Victoria questioned with a puzzled expression on her face.

“He knows we’ll have to stop eventually… he’s not going to do anything to draw attention to us.”

“So let’s just call the cops…”

“Yeah… it’s an option,” the brunette murmured as she thought it over. “But he hasn’t done anything… second the cops show up; he’ll just drive off… even if they pull him over…”

“He still hasn’t done anything…” the blonde interrupted, finishing the thought. “So what do we do?”

“We need to lose him… for the night, if possible.”

Absent of the blonde secretly moonlighting as a stunt driver, the pair were faced with a limited number of options for making a more permeant escape. The prospect of relying further on the rewind was daunting, as with each subsequent use, the level of strain placed on the brunette’s mind progressively increased. Initially, testing Victoria’s driving acumen was given consideration, but the option was discarded, to no offence of the blonde, after determining that they were more likely to crash before Prescott. Having made several trips around the neighborhood, the atmosphere of in the car became increasing despondent. As the vehicle slowed to a halt at a stoplight, a sense of desperation was settling in, as taking a drastic measure seemed to be the only feasible option available. Resigned to decision, an idea came to the brunette while watching the traffic pass in front of them. 

“V… Do you trust me?”  Max asked intently with her eyes fixated on the blonde.

“Yeah… I don’t like the sound of this…” Victoria responded, the apprehension clear in her voice.

“When say go, hit the gas…okay?”

“You’re shittin me?” the blonde remarked, in shock over the suggestion.

“Trust me V… worst case he is still behind us.”

Reluctant, and finding no conceivable alternative, Victoria eventually agreed to the plan. The worst case in fact wasn’t that Prescott would still be in pursuit, but rather, in the event of a collision, it was possible the brunette would be unable to rewind back to safety. Considering the dire nature of their situation, however, Max determined that it was preferable that the blonde be not made aware of that possibility. Having reached an agreement on the gambit, the hipster watched the flow of traffic intently, waiting for an opportune moment. Finally noting a substantial break in the flow of traffic, a surge of butterflies exploded in the girl’s stomach in anticipation of the moment of truth.

“Go!” she shouted abruptly

After a split second of hesitation on the part of the blonde, the car took off into traffic to the sound of honking horns. Caught completely off guard by the abruptness of the maneuver, Prescott was momentarily stunned before following suit into the intersection. Witnessing the entire sequence unfold in slow motion, Max watched the headlights of the intersecting cars flash across the passenger window. As the opposite end of the street came into view, optimism of the gambit being successful filled the air before the tail end of the vehicle was abruptly pulled back and to the left, after being struck by oncoming traffic. The resulting impact sent a shockwave through the vehicle causing the back window to explode, sending glass through the vehicle, before twerking the occupants sharply to the right in the direction of the collision. Consequently, the car was sent spiraling, eventually coming to a rest after turning 180 degrees to face their pursuer head on. Still discombobulated from the force of the impact, the girls were abruptly brought back to their senses by the sound of a blaring car horn. Recognizing the oncoming danger in tandem, their eyes met as each girl braced themselves in anticipation of the impact.

“Max!!!” the blonde called out in desperation.

Freed from the shackles of fear by the blonde’s words, Max instinctively held up her right hand in attempt to stop the vehicle. “No!!!” she cried out, moment before the car struck them. Just before impact, the oncoming car slowed to a halt, as the scene around them became froze in time before slowly receding back to the moment prior entering the intersection. After releasing her grip, Max fell back into the seat, in a state of agony over the whole ordeal.

“MAX! Max… what happened?” the blonde quizzed, the concern apparent in her voice. “Are you okay?”

Regaining her composure, Max did her best to placate the blonde concerns. “I’m okay V…really… I’m fine.”

“Alright… so are we doing this or what?”

It was clear that Victoria remained unconvinced by the brunette’s word, but decided to not press the matter, choosing to focus on the more immediate concern facing them. Shortly thereafter, a spike of anxiety pulsed through the hipster as the same vehicle that had struck them on the initial attempt came into view. Eventually, she summoned the resolve to make another attempt after recognizing the crucial mistake that had doomed the first effort. The abruptness in which Victoria had been given the go ahead had caused a second of hesitation in the blonde as her mind processed the information. Determined to not repeat that mistake, Max braced herself against the passenger door, while observing the flow of traffic on approach.

“Okay V… get ready… and GO!”

With the benefit of advanced notice, Victoria accelerated into the intersection without delay. Following the sequence as the initial attempt, max breathed a sigh of relief as the vehicle that had clipped them previously sped past as they cleared the intersection. That moment of hesitation on the part of the blonde proved to be the entire margin of error. As their vehicle had entered the intersection a moment earlier, the same was true for Prescott. Rather than clipping the back of the girl’s vehicle on the passenger side, the intersecting car hit the front passenger side of Prescott’s Mercedes. The resulting collision had crushed the impacted tire, effectively disabling the vehicle, before spiraling the vehicle ninety degrees to the left. Euphoric of the success of the plan, the girls anxiously continued to Blackwell academy.   

“Okay… be honest… how many times did we try that?

“Don’t worry about it,” the brunette responded coyly before turning away to hide her smirk.

Victoria merely rolled her eyes before stating, “Well… I guess that answers that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always feedback is welcome, even if it's just to point out any spelling grammar errors. There's no one else reading this before it goes up so I'm sure there are mistakes.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34 flash drive - Thursday 17th PM

Following the encounter with Prescott, erroring on the side of caution, the girls parked their vehicle on a secluded side street near the south side of the campus before venturing toward the dormitories. The decision had been made on the pretense that a means of escape was still close enough to be accessible, but less likely to be discovered, thereby subsequently revealing their presence at the school. In a continuation of the covert approach, the girl’s snuck through the nearby woods to limit their exposure to anyone that may have been watching. Having reached the edge of the woods, Max motioned to the blonde to stop in order to observe the scene outside the dormitories before proceeding. Observing the eerie silence around them, the brunette was taken aback by the ominous nature of the campus’s appearance. Being late on a Thursday night, there were typically no students afoot, but there usually a security guard patrolling the grounds. Nevertheless, with the path before them clear, the girls cleared the woods before entering the building on route to Max’s dorm. Reaching door number 219, shortly after they had entered, Max fell to the floor, clutching her head in agony.

“Max?!” Victoria asked, confused. “What’s wrong?!”

“Come on… we have to go!” Max muttered, struggling back to her feet.

“Why… what happened?” Victoria stammered while helping the brunette to her feet.

“Just trust me… okay?” Max pleaded. “I’ll explain later. Come on… leave the light on.”

Unbeknownst to Victoria, the girls had in fact attempted to upload the contents of the flash drive. Upon entry, they had enough time to boot up the computer and access the contents of the flash drive. Unfortunately, there hadn’t been enough time to get any further than that, as the effort was brought to a halt by the arrival of an uninvited guest. Shortly after their arrival, Mr. Jefferson kicked in the door and had his gun drawn before either of them had a chance to react. Staring down the barrel of the gun, Max reflexively raised her right hand to rewind back to just after they had entered the dorm, affording them the opportunity to escape before his arrival. Immediately turning foot, the girls returned to the hallway before sprinting down the hall as quietly as possible. As they raced toward safety, Max shared with Victoria just what had occurred to cause an immediate abandonment of their strategy upon arrival.

“So… how far did we get?” Victoria said in response as soon as Max had finished.

“Not far,” Max replied providing an answer more vague than intended.

While descending the stairs, the image of Mr. Jefferson approaching the same door as them came into view. Exchanging a few curse words, the girls turned tail to retreat back up the stairs. Frantically searching for a place to hide, they burst through a set of double doors as their pursuer entered the building. Pressed against the doors, the two stared at each other, eyes wide with fright, hoping and waiting for Jefferson to continue on in the opposite direction. As the man reached the top of the stairs, he scanned the hallway in search of any presence of another before stomping on toward the brunette’s room. Shaking with trepidation when Jefferson looked in the direction of the doors providing their cover, both let out a sharp exhale in relief as he ran down the hall in the opposite direction.

“Come on, it’s clear,” Max ordered before looking back at Victoria. “Take my hand,” Max offered, smiling this time.

 

Pushing through the doors toward freedom, the girls arrived outside and realized they were unsure of what their next move should be.

“Shit, Max… what are we doing?” the blonde inquired.

“We go somewhere else… anywhere else,” Max answered. “You got your keys?”

Patting herself down in search of her purse, Victoria’s eyes went wide after having the realization that she didn’t have them. “FUCK! They must be back in your room!”

The brunette’s heart began to race over the revelation before patting herself down in the same manner as Victoria had done. Abruptly her right hand came to a halt on her right hip, before letting out an audible sigh of relief. “Oh thank god…,” she proclaimed before reaching into a small pocket, “I still have it.”

In the midst of their celebration, the pair realized they were still standing in the open in front of the dorm. Running out of time, Max clutched the blondes hand before dashing in tandem toward the woods opposite of the dormitories. Reaching the edge of the trees around the Tobanga Totem, the girls pivoted around before taking cover in view of the door they had just came through.

“Why are we stopping?” Victoria asked clearly bewildered by the unexpected strategy.

“We’re going to wait for him to come out, and see which way he goes,” Max answered rather smugly, “See which way he goes. If we know where he’s heading… we’ll have a better chance to avoid him.”

“Dang, you’ve got beauty and brains Caulfield,” Victoria responded grinning. “You’re a real catch babe.”

“I know,” Max replied doing her best to replicate Han Solo’s famous last words from Empire Strikes Back before winking back at her.

Not long after the two girls stopped to wait, Mr. Jefferson burst through the dormitory entrance before frantically searching the immediate area for the girls. Unable to find his prey, the man quickly darted off in the direction of the front entrance to the main building. Turning to confirm that Jefferson had continued on the same trajectory toward the front of the campus, Max frowned after witnessing a familiar sight. Between the main building and the forest stood a spectral doe, the same one that had guided the brunette through the woods earlier that evening. Waiting until it held the hipster’s attention, when their eyes met, the translucent animal turned and trotted toward the back of the building. Recalling the previous outcomes; having both followed and ignored its direction, Max resolved to follow in the hopes it would continue to be beneficial.

“What… what are you looking at?” the blonde inquired in bewilderment. 

“Nothing, I was just… never mind. Come on, let’s go.”

“Ugh… where exactly are we going?” Victoria interrupted, clearly hesitant over the brunette’s plan.

“Inside… we’ll sneak around…”

“What? Max… this is crazy… Jeffershit is in there,” the blonde implored, “we have to get out of here… we’ll find someplace else.”

“I don’t except you to understand… but I… I have to do this,” the brunette said before stepping closer to Victoria. “You don’t have to come, this is my fight… get some place safe… this’ll all be…”

“Stop! Just… stop,” the blonde said, her face filled with frustration. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

“Letting me?” Max questioned with a smirk. “Yes mam.”

“Shut up,” Victoria replied while rolling her eyes before eventually returning the smile.

 

Cutting through the woods to reduce their visibility, the girls circled building while following the spirit animal’s path. As they approached the back doors into the main building, they took cover on both sides before glancing at one in other.

“You think there’s an alarm?”

“Nope,” the brunette replied bluntly. Glancing around the surrounding area, she picked up rock before using it to break one of the door windows.

“What are you… what the shit?” Victoria stammered out in disbelief.

“This isn’t my first time,” Max replied while reaching in to push the door open after scanning the area immediately inside. Noticing the blonde was staring in her direction slack-jawed, she asked innocently, “What?”

“Nothing… it’s just… dang Caulfield, you’re a bad ass.”

“Yeah…” the brunette answered with a laugh. “It’s amazing what super powers will do to your confidence.”

Entering the school proper, the girls quickly scoured the presence of anyone in the immediate area. Deciding that they were safe, at least for the moment, Max took the opportunity to let Victoria what her plan was.

“We have to get to a computer to upload this.” Max stated, “If it’s online, they won’t be able to buy their way out of this.”

“What if the internet is down here to?” Victoria asked, pointing out the obvious flaw in her plan.

“Well then we’re fucked,” Max replied before pausing for effect, “but we’ll deal with that when the time comes.”

Venturing further into the building, Max and Victoria moved quickly, but also quietly to minimize the chance of their presence being detected. Along the way, the notion of mitigating their exposure to risk was discarded after consideration had been given to the options available. The computer most accessible to the girls was also in the most precarious of locations; the photography lab. In light of the fact that they were both currently enrolled in the Language of Photography courses; they had been provided the login credentials to the photo editing computer located at the back of the room. Unfortunately, the most accessible option also carried the most likely prospect of a direct confrontation with Jefferson. The reasons for which being two-fold; it was likely Jefferson was aware of their strategy and would focus his effort accordingly, or if the man had decided to flee, it was probable there would be items he wished to collect before leaving. Furthermore, the destination was made further daunting by the numerous ghosts that still remained within, subsequently rendering the idea to be unappealing to say the least.

_Maybe it’s meant to be… the brunette thought, this all started there… so it’d be fitting to end it there to._

Approaching a corner, the girls slowed before Max took a moment to check around the corner. Finding the path clear, she pulled back before noticing how tense the blonde had become. Deciding to offer an attempt at placating the girls’ nerves, the brunette commented, “You know… I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of the building.”

“Seriously? You’ve been here for over a month.” Victoria questioned, finding the notion absurd.

“I don’t know,” Max replied after contemplating for a moment. “I wanted to, but there always seemed to be something stopping me.”

“Well… maybe now that we’re together you’ll get out a little more,” Victoria teased playfully.

“We’re together now?” Max questioned, struggling to hide her grin. “I don’t think we ever dtr’d.”

Scoffing at the notion, Victoria shot back in a sarcastic tone, “Bitch, we totally dtr’d that first night you slept in my bed.”

It the next moment, with Max and Victoria having paused their playful banter, they pushed their way through a set of double doors into the main hallway. As the right side door swung open, it collided into something solid causing an audible thud. Both hearing the sound; they each glanced at the other with the concern visible on their faces. Slowly peering around the door, they investigated the source of the impact with trepidation. Struggling to see what lay before them through the darkness, they both stepped in for a closer look. Slowly, as the realization of what they were witnessing set in, and audible gasp escaped Victoria mouth. Sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall with their head contorted in an unnatural direction, was a member of Blackwell Security.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun, dun, dun! haha. Thanks for reading. As always feel free to comment with your thoughts or to point out any spelling/grammatical errors.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35 flash drive - Thursday 17 th, Late PM**

Shocked over what they had unearthed, Max and Victoria came crashing back down to earth over the discovery of a member of Blackwell security. Of which brought an immediate halt to the brunette’s effort to mitigate their level of stress by fostering a light hearted dynamic between them. Reflecting on the guard’s fate, they presumed his only fault was to have been unfortunate enough to be on patrol this particular evening. Trying to piece together what had transpired, the most likely scenario involved him either being taken by surprise or having dropped his guard at the sight of a faculty member in Mr. Jefferson. Upon examination, the environment revealed no signs of a struggle as the floor contained no marks, and there appeared to be nothing out of place or disturbed. Therefore, it was probable Jefferson had either snuck up from behind or revealed his presence in order to close the gap between them without raising suspicion. In an act borne more from obligation than actual hope, they further examined the man to discern if he was still alive. Although any margin of doubt that may have remained quickly evaporated upon a closer examination of his face. The complexion pale, his mouth agape, and the void in the eyes removed any doubt over whether the guard was deceased. Kneeling before the guard, the angle of the man’s head suggested it had been broken, indicating that any further investigation would be in vain.

“Oh god Max,” Victoria stammered, astonished at the fate that had befallen the man. “I can’t believe the same guy teaching photography would do this.”

However for Max, this wasn’t the first dead body she’d had the misfortune of coming into contact with. As a result, the sight had less of an impact on her than the blonde, having been desensitized to some extent to the carnage.

“You’re not the only one,” Max replied, in attempt to comfort the blonde. “We all loved him… heck he was the reason a lot of us came here.”

Accepting that there was nothing further that could be done for the man, the two girls backed away before returning to the task at hand. Their nerves now on high alert after discovering the security guards body, they advanced down the hallway venturing further into the school. The mood had turned somber as they exchanged glances before rounding a corner and proceeding down the main hallway. With the entrance to the photography lab within view, the door on the far end violently swung open, before Mr. Jefferson came through the other side. Time itself seemed to slow after the doors had opened, as was usually the case when Max faced a situation in dire need of a rewind. Scrambling to process the abrupt change in circumstance, the brunette acted solely on reflex as she held up her right hand. Having rewound for only a few moments, a sudden spike of pressure coursed through her head as her vision mimicked the appearance of a burning Polaroid photo. The abrupt sensation of pain broke her concentration and drew both hands to the side of her head as if to keep her head from exploding before nearly dropping to the floor. Finding herself behind the previous corner, Victoria was taken aback by the apparent sudden shift in the brunette.

“Max! What happened?”

“Back…,” Max stammered in pain. “We have to go back.”

Frantic, the Victoria grabbed the hipster to offer assistance in their retreat as they made their way back to the security guard.

“Jefferson?”

“Yeah… he’s… he’s down the hall.”

“Okay… okay, we just have to find a place to hide,” the blonde murmured, trying to feign as much confidence as possible.

Shuddering after an inadvertent glance at the fallen man, the girls reached the set of double doors, before pushing the bar to clear the path before them. Walking as quickly as they were able, their forward motion was brought to an abrupt halt as the doors refused to budget.

“No,” they each muttered in unison.

Pushing on the bar again produced the same result, along with the second and third attempts.

“Fuck!” Victoria whisper yelled, while the brunette raised her hand to attempt a rewind. “Max… no!”

Disregarding the blondes warning, Max attempted to rewind back to before they had crossed the threshold of the doors. Coming to an end immediately after it began, she cried out in agony before collapsing to floor.

“Max!” Victoria cried, before dropping to floor to return the brunette to her feet. “Come on, we have to…”

The blondes pleas were brought to an abrupt halt as Max looked up at her revealing the presence of blood dripping down her face. Struggling to get the hipster back on her feet, Victoria looked around in desperation.

The overreliance on the rewind had finally overwhelmed the hipster’s mind, as she could no longer withstand the pressure that was inflicted upon its use. Max had been force rely on her power on numerous occasions, and outside of the time spent unconscious in darkroom, she hadn’t slept since this morning. As a result, her mind had been pushed to its limit and she was beginning to lose control of her powers. Terrified as the realization set in, the brunette slowly looked up to see witness a horrified expression on Victoria’s face. Forced to look on helplessly, Max could feel her heart rate elevating, accompanied by tightness in her chest caused by her breaths becoming shorter. Her pupils dilated in a reaction to the unexpected increase in stress as she watched the blonde try to get them to safety.

Realizing the onus was on her to make a decision, Victoria frantically search for an escape. With time running short, she stepped over to the deceased security guard in search of any item of potential use. Locating the flash light, the blonde had an idea after looking around for potential options. Finding the door on the left to be the most inconspicuous, she approached flash light in hand. Standing perpendicular with the wall, the blonde held the base of the flashlight in her right hand and one end in the left. Offering reassurance in the form of a nod to the brunette, Victoria took a deep breath before smashing the other end of the object into the window. Creating an opening large enough for a hand, she reached through to unlock the door, before racing to help Max enter the room. With one arm over her shoulder, Victoria guided them into the class room as the door on the far end swung open in announcement of Jefferson’s arrival.

“Max… I need your help,” the blonde pleaded. “I bought us some time… but he’s still coming.”

“I’m sorry, V… you were right,” Max looked back apologetically. “We should’ve left when we had the chance.”

“As much as I normally like hearing that,” Victoria replied with a smirk, “forget about it. We need a plan.”

“Leave me… I’ll distract him… then you make a run for it,” the brunette implored with tears forming in her eyes.

“The hell with that! I’m not going to let you…” Victoria protested before her voice trailed off.

“What?”

“I have an idea,” the blonde answered with a smile, “but I’m going to need your help.”

 

Stepping through the doorway, Mr. Jefferson was met with the faint sound of a commotion at the far end of the hallway. Immediately catching his attention, the man abruptly froze in place before turning to position one ear toward the hallway in an effort to identify any additional sound. Detecting nothing, the professor’s nerves went on high alert while beginning to slowly creep down the dimly lit corridor in an effort to ward off any unpleasant surprises that may be lying in wait. Approaching the main entryway to the building, he continued on after finding the area clear of any threats.

Venturing closer to the photography lab, Jefferson drew his gun, before peering into each room while checking the lock as he passed. Starting to question the validity of the noise, he reached the end of the hall before following it left. Finding nothing but the security guard and the locked doors, he swore under his breath before turning to return to the direction from which he came. In mid turn, Jefferson caught something faint out of the corner of his eye. Stepping back to adjust the angle, there was a brief flash on the floor before him. Kneeling down for a closer look, Jefferson smiled sinisterly after noting the flash had been from light reflecting off a piece of broken glass. Looking up before surveying the surrounding area, the man felt a surge of satisfaction after spotting a door with small hole smashed through the corner. Returning to a standing position, Jefferson checked the safety on his handgun, pulled back the hammer, before taking a quick glance around him. Confident that there was no one around to interfere, except the security guard from before, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Narrowly finding refuge in the classroom before Mr. Jefferson’s arrival, the two girls found themselves pressed against the back wall, debating the merits of the blondes plan. Max was adamant in the position that if either of them should be placed at risk, that person should be her. While Victoria countered that the brunette was in no condition to execute the plan as it was a struggle for her to merely stand. As the dispute raged on, the tension and anticipation between them increased with each passing moment.

“Max… this is our best chance” Victoria implored as quietly as she could manage.

“V… I just can’t… I can’t let…” Max countered, desperation filling her voice. “He could…”

“Shhh…” the blonde abruptly interjected, “you hear that?”

With their discussion forced to the back burner, both each girl held their tongue as they listened intently.

“I don’t…” the brunette began to whisper before the sentence came to an abrupt halt.

*Step*…*Step*

Eyes wide, each girl stared at the other in acknowledgement of the sound.

“Too late, we’re doing this… now hide,” Victoria stated emphatically while motioning downward with her hands erratically.

Offering an acknowledgement in the form of a nod, each girl took their respective positions. Fidgeting in trepidation, as each subsequent step rang through the hall, they were left with nothing to do but wait, and hope everything went according to plan. Overwhelmed by the anticipation, Max could feel the same symptoms that she had experience before finding a way into this room resurface. With Mr. Jefferson’s dim shadow casting into the room, Victoria took a deep breath and closed her eyes in a final act of preparation. In the next moment, the sound of the doorknob turning echoed through the room, before the door slowly creaked open. In a demonstration of the man’s arrogance, Jefferson began a maniacal monologue as he stepped into the room.

“I got to hand it to you Max,” he began with a condescending tone, “you led me on quiet the chase. But… if you come out now, I promise I’ll take special care of you in the darkroom.”

His offer being met with silence, Jefferson continued to advance his way into the room.

“Okay Max, have it your way.” Jefferson resumed, “You’re a real fighter… I’ll give you that, but it won’t save yourself… or Victoria.”

At the conclusion of the veiled threat, an unexpected noise echoed from the back of the room, breaking the silence that had followed. Confident that he had uncovered the location of his prey, the man veered toward the back in the direction in which the sound had originated.

“Alright Max, give it up… it’s over,” Jefferson asserted, in tone transitioning from arrogance to agitation.

“Fuck you, Jefferson.”

“Come on, Get up!” the man shouted, now standing beside the brunette, before kicking her in the leg with a moderate amount of force.

Lying in wait in anticipation of the right moment, in the midst of their exchange, Victoria crept out from behind the front counter into the open. Coming up from behind her target, the blonde closed the gap stepping as softly as possible to reduce the chance of revealing her presence. Now within a few feet of her former mentor, gripping the flashlight with two hands, the blonde wound up in the motion of a baseball swing before summoning all of the strength she could muster.

“What the? Shi…” Jefferson muttered, after glancing over his shoulder having sensed something behind him.

In the moment the photography professor realized the gravity of his oversight, Victoria was in the midst of the follow through on the swing of the flashlight. Turning at the last second, the end the object connected on the furrowed brow of Mr. Jefferson, dropping the man to the floor after rending him unconscious. The euphoria of the impact surged through the blonde before wincing in recoil over the sound of the subsequent thud of the man’s head bouncing off the tile floor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment please; praise, critique, or correct


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36 flash drive – Thursday 17th – Late PM

“Damn, V,” Max muttered, pulling herself to her feet, “that was one hell of a swing.”

Victoria couldn’t help but laugh at the praise before responding, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

After a brief embrace, Victoria hoisted one of the brunette’s arms over her shoulder for support, before the pair hobbled out of the room as fast as they were able. While on route, they each glanced down to momentarily indulge in the sight of their subdued adversary, still motionless on the floor. Although the plan was successful, there existed a sense of urgency given the uncertainty over the duration in which Jefferson would be incapacitated. Shuffling down the hallway in a manner reminiscent of a three-legged race, the girls remain fixated on the front entry way. Being their final destination, the finish line seemed to recede further with each conjoined step they took. With their breathing becoming labored from the effort, they were mercifully closing in on the entryway when the presence of red and blue lights abruptly pierced through the windows, illuminating the interior of the building.

“The cops?” Victoria inquired.

“Could just be a Vortex Party,” the brunette suggested with a smirk.

“Oh… somebodies got jokes, huh?” the blonde countered with a laugh. “Smart ass.”

Seeing the brunette’s tongue as a form a rebuttal, Victoria laughed as they reached the corner leading to the entryway. Rounding the corner, the buildings front doors came into view, revealing the source of the red and blue lights. A wave of euphoria swept over the pair after having confirmation that the police had arrived. Making their way toward the exit, the girl’s forward motion came to an abrupt halt over the sound of an indiscernible voice calling out to them.

“Hey! What’s going on?” a man’s voice shouted from behind them.

Perplexed over the origin of the voice, the girls peered around the corner after exchanging a quick glance. Distinguishing only a faint silhouette of a man jogging toward them, they were reluctant to expose themselves by stepping out into the open. As the man drew closer, both his image and voice became decipherable. Finally recognizing the man’s voice, Max called out in response.

“David?” Max shouted.

“Max!” David barked in reply. “What’s going on here?”

“David! Jefferson is after us,” Max stammered, struggling to speak coherently. “It was all... David, behind you!”

The brunette’s initial wave of exuberance over the sight of the security chief quickly dissipated after observing a presence cloaked in shadow emerge behind him. Taken aback by the implication of Jefferson, David’s pace inadvertently slowed as he contemplated the implications of the revelation. With the puzzle pieces coming together, his senses momentarily dulled to the events around him, subsequently making himself vulnerable to attack. The ensuing commotion revealed the aggressor to be Jefferson, having regained consciousness shortly after the girls had fled the room. Aided by the element of surprise, Jefferson managed to subdue the security chief by dislodging the man’s weapon, before momentarily stunning him with blow to the head from butt of his own gun. Holding the captive at bay with a barrel to his temple, the professor began a desperate attempt at turning the situation to his favor.

“Damn it, Max!” Jefferson screamed in rage. “Why’d you have to be so fucking nosey?”

“Get out of here Max!” David interrupted, “save yourself!”

“Shut up, David!” Jefferson snapped, “Unless you want his blood on your hands… and the wall, you’ll get your ass out here right now.”

Stunned over the turn of events, Max unconsciously slid behind the corner in silence. Initially able to nothing but sulk, over the revelation, and that another person had been placed in harm’s way as a result of her actions. Distraught over the notion of Joyce losing both her daughter and husband within a couple of weeks, the brunette considered a course of action. Agonized over what to do, Max finally turned to Victoria, only to be heartbroken over the expression staring back at her.

“I can’t leave him out there,” Max started after turning away, being unable to make eye contact.

“No… No, you can’t!” Victoria pleaded with tears forming in the corner of her eyes, “Please… you can’t go out there… we’ll get help… let the police handle it!”

“I’m sorry… but I have to do this,” the brunette consoled, in an attempt to comfort Victoria to the best of her ability. “I have to save him… I have to do it for Joyce… and for Chloe,” she concluded, now with tears of her own welling in the corner of her eyes. 

“No… please don’t go,” Victoria pleaded again, “I… I can’t lose you.”

Smiling at the blonde’s words, Max leaned in to give her a passionate kiss before pulling away to reply. “You won’t,” she continued as they intertwined their fingers. “This isn’t goodbye… this is, I’ll be back soon… I promise.”

Receiving only a nod between bursts of sobbing in response, Max forced herself away from Victoria’s embrace. Suddenly feeling weak after the loss of support, she summoned the will to press on. Peering out into the hallway, the brunette observed the scene before her. Down the dimly lit corridor stood the two men, both nervous, albeit for different reasons entirely. Under the faint glow of the security lighting, the hallway alternated between red and blue with each rotation of the lights on the police squad cars piercing through the windows and into the building. Forcing herself toward the hallway proved to be a struggle with each step feeling heavier than the last.

“I’m coming Jefferson,” she announced, “Don’t shoot!”

“Max, no… what are you doing?” David cried, as her image emerged from behind the corner. “Stay back!”

“It’s okay David,” Max replied, in effort to convince herself as much as him as she continued slowly approaching the standoff. “Everything will be fine.” Turning her attention to Jefferson, she asked, “What do you want Jefferson?”

“It’s simple,” Jefferson answered now feeling as though he had the upper hand in the situation, “give me the flash drive.”

“Fine, you can have it… just let him go,” Max conceded while continuing her approach.

Waiting until Max was about ten feet away, Jefferson ordered her to stop, place the flash drive on the floor and kick it over to him. Acting accordingly, the brunette stopped and complied with the instructions.

“Okay… now what?” Max inquired, attempting to keep the exchange moving.

Stopping the flash drive with his foot, Jefferson scoffed before replying, “Now… I leave.”

“Well… good luck with that.” Max countered.

“Well… first I’ll need a distraction. You didn’t think everyone was just going to walk away from this did you?” Jefferson insinuated with a condescending tone. “God, you’re stupid.”

Abruptly thereafter, Jefferson pushed the security chief toward the brunette. Witnessing the ensuing chaos in slow motion, Max watched in horror as he lifted his weapon before aiming down the sights. As David was stumbling forward having lost his balance, Jefferson took advantage of the man’s defenseless position, a single shot connected on the back of the security chiefs head. As Mr. Madsen dropped to the floor in a heap, the professor transitioned his aim toward the brunette.  While the gun was in motion, Max noticed the appearance of a sadistic smile as it flashed across the man’s face. Utterly devastated, the hipster collapsed to her knees, hearing the faint sound of a maniacal laughter, before another shot from the pistol.

And in that moment, Max was surrounded by white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Merry Christmas/happy holidays everyone. I'm hoping to finish up the flash drive route by New Years, so there might be some extra chapters coming your way. Thanks for reading, please comment.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37 flash drive - Friday 18th Late PM

“Max... Max, are you okay!?!”

 

At the sound of the gun shot, time momentarily froze, before rewinding back in rapid succession. Recoiling in trepidation over the flash and noise, Max watched as the bullet returned to the pistols chamber, followed by the flash and puff of smoke. David Madsen subsequently rose from the ground as the first bullet retreated from the back of his head as he return to Jefferson’s side. In the moment thereafter, the brunette retreated back to Victoria at the entryway, before backpedaling in tandem down the hall from which the cane.

“Come on, let’s get… Max... Max, are you okay!?!”

The brunette’s head in a fog, Victoria’s words were the first thing she heard as her senses came rushing back. Disoriented over the involuntary shift in time, Max fell into the blonde for support having lost her sense of balance. Regaining her composure, she looked around to confirm that the gambit had been successful. The extreme stress that accompanied the mortal danger had resulted in an automatic rewind, just as it had when witnessing Chloe get shot for the first time and subsequently discovered her power. Now fully present in the moment, Max made eye contact with the blonde as the latter was attempting to discern what was ailing her companion.

“What… What is it?” Victoria asked, with an equal mix of concern and urgency. “Come on, let’s go!”

“V… Go on without me… there’s something I still need to do,” Max replied sincerely. “Go on, I’ll be fine… I promise.”

“Are you shitting me?”

With the request being received about as poorly as she expected, Max frantically searched for a means of convincing the blonde to follow her lead. After the initial appeal, the discussion dissolved into fits of erratic whispering between the girls. Realizing the moment called for drastic action, Max simply leant in to kiss her before saying, “Please… this isn’t the first time.”

With extreme reluctance, Victoria nodded in resignation before proceeding to run down the hallway just as the two of them had done before. After offering a few additional details on the forthcoming events, Max scrambled to hide before David emerged through the double doors. Deciding the best place to hide was back in the same class room that they had left Jefferson; Max snuck her way back in and hid behind another counter top. Peering around the edge of the counter, she saw Jefferson still lying motionless on the floor. With as much assurance as possible, the hipster tucked herself under the counter before attempting to breathe as quietly as possible. As the success of her plan hinged on her remaining undetected, the slightest noise at an inopportune moment could doom the entire effort. Shortly after Jefferson began to stir, David came bursting through the hallway doors before running in pursuit of Victoria.

“Hey! What’s going on?” David cried out as he ran toward her.

Startled by the commotion in the hallway, Jefferson struggled to regain his composure and return to his feet. After taking a moment to collect his senses, he suddenly panicked as the proceeding events that led to the reversal of fortunes returned to his recollection before moving toward the exchange. Massaging the bump on his head while listening intently to the exchange in the hall, the professor cursed under his breath after recognizing the male voice as that of Blackwell’s chief of security. Checking his pockets to discover the absence of his gun, he scanned the floor quickly in desperate search of it. Eventually spotting it, the brunette could hear an audible sound of relief as the man retrieved his weapon. Returning to the door, under of the cover of dim light and the noise created by the exchange, the professor ventured into the hall to begin stalking his prey.

“Mr. Madsen!” Jefferson’s after us, he’s lost his shit.” Victoria sputtered out in reply as the panic from having left Max started to hit her.

Stepping out from her hiding place, Max moved to observe a familiar scene unfold from the opposite angle. With the security chief’s forward motion having come to a halt after the identity of the culprit was revealed, Jefferson crouched slightly to minimize his visibility while he closed in on the man before him. Becoming tense in anticipation of the moment at hand, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves while stepping within a foot of the man. Suddenly pouncing on his prey, Jefferson thrust his left arm around David’s neck, and swung his right down to disarm his victim.

“God Damn it, Max!” Jefferson screamed in rage. “Why’d you have to be so fucking nosey?”

“Get out of here!” David interrupted to plead his case, “Save yourself, please!”

“Shut up, David!” Jefferson snapped, “Unless you want his blood on your hands… and the wall, you’ll get your ass out here right now.”

As David was disarmed by a downward strike from Jefferson’s right hand, the follow through motion sent the gun sliding backwards in the same direction. Peering out of the doorway, as the gun slide conveniently toward her, Max recognized the firearm. The security chief’s weapon of choice was the same revolver that Chloe had stolen back in the original timeline. Taking a moment to appreciate the cosmic justice of the revelation, the brunette moved into the hallway to obtain the sidearm. After picking it up, Max slowly rose to her feet and aimed the gun at the center of Jefferson’s back.

Staring at the back of her nemesis, gun in hand; it was at this moment that Max realized the gravity of her plan. If at all possible, her preference was to avoid having to rely on her last resort, but recognized the possibility that she would have to pull the trigger. Thinking back to the last instance in which she had the option to fire that same revolver, she had the benefits of utilizing her rewind to explore the consequences of both actions before making before deciding between the two options. However, the brunette wouldn’t be afforded that same luxury in this instance as her rewind had been rendered inoperable due to her mind no longer being able to withstand the pressure. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves, she stepped closer to Jefferson before raising the revolver with both hands. Resolving that she only had one card left to play, she laid it on the table and opened her mouth to speak.

“It’s over Jefferson,” Max said emphatically as she cocked the hammer, “you’re finished.”

Caught completely off guard by the brunette’s words, Jefferson froze for a moment second guessing the validity of what he had just heard. Noticeably shrinking in stature as compared to a moment ago, Max couldn’t suppress a smirk as the man slouched and rolled his shoulders forward out of reflex to protect himself. A moment of awkward silence passed before the professor was reluctantly the one to break it. Still in a state of shock over the sound of the brunette’s voice behind him, he eventually stammered out what few words he could manage.

“Max? How…how did you…” Jefferson never got the chance to finish his thought.

In a state of disbelief after the tables had once again turned, with his eyes wide with shock, Jefferson slowly pivoted right at the waist seeking confirmation of the brunette’s presence behind him. In the midst of doing so, his gun drifted slightly away from David’s head following in the same direction of the pivot. Realizing this was likely to be his best chance, David’s right arm abruptly shot up to grab the professors right wrist before thrusting the gun toward the ceiling. During which, the sudden force caused Jefferson to pull the trigger, firing off a single round into the ceiling above. With the threat of the gun neutralized, the security chief executed an elaborate military takedown sending Jefferson colliding into the floor with considerable force. From Jefferson’s point of view, the entire exchange passed in a blink of eye as he went from being in control of the situation to face down on the ground with David restraining him.

“Max… that was stupid,” David chided before offering a faint smile, “but… thanks.” 

In a state of disbelief over the finality of the moment, Max simply closed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath that seemed as though it had been held in for over two weeks. With Jefferson now restrained by David and the flash drive in her pocket, the brunette allowed herself to entertain the notion that the entire ordeal was over. With the world seemingly gone silent, she opened her eyes to witness Jefferson flailing on the ground in protest, and in the distance, Victoria running down the hall with tears in her eyes, with the cops closely behind. Allowing herself a smile, Max rested against the wall, before sliding down to take a seated position on the floor. Looking up, she spotted a familiar blue butterfly sitting atop a set of lockers, flapping its wings.

“Fucking butterfly,” Max mumbled to herself as she shook her head and laughed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment Please: praise, critique, or correct


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38 flash drive - Friday 18th 8:00 am

Sprawled out amongst an assortment of blankets and pillows, Max began to stir in bed before begrudgingly turning over. Realizing that the bed she occupied was not her own, the still half asleep hipster struggled to a seated position, to look for the absent blonde. Pouting over finding herself alone in Victoria's dorm, the brunette wiped away fresh gunk from her eyes as she tried to reassemble the events of the previous night in her mind. Realizing there were significant gaps in her memory, suddenly she frantically searched for her phone in a fit of panic. The last clear memory was witnessing the blue butterfly perched atop a set of lockers after Jefferson had been restrained by David. Shortly thereafter, she vaguely recalled talking to David and the police and presumably, at some point after her and Victoria retired to the dorms. The notion of not being able to remember the last few hours concerned Max, as she questioned if exhaustion due to the week's events was a plausible explanation. In the midst of her anxious consideration, the brunette's eyes shot wide open before jumping out of bed in search of her clothes. While frantically searching the room for them, Max reached for her pants as Victoria came walking in.

Smiling as soon as she saw the blush on the brunette's face, Victoria greeted her girlfriend with a kiss before saying, "Morning babe… so are you skipping out on me?"

"What? No!" the brunette managed to blurt out, dropping her pants as her face transitioned to an even darker shade of red. "I wasn't… I… what happened to the flash drive?"

"You don't remember?" Victoria questioned, the smirk fading from her face as she examined her girlfriend's demeanor, "I gave it to David this morning." Sensing the obvious question forthcoming from the hipster as the girl's eyes went wide in shock, the blonde sought to reassure her. "Don't worry; I made a copy before I gave it to him… just in case."

Despite the measurable relief obtained from uncovering the whereabouts of the flash drive's contents, the brunette was still disconcerted over the gaps in her memory. "I don't remember much after Jefferson got taken away though," she eventually admitted to the blonde.

Not surprised to hear that the hipster had trouble remembering parts of last night, Victoria did her best to fill in the blanks. After Mr. Jefferson had been taken into custody, Max had practically collapsed from stress and exertion over the ordeal. As a precaution, an ambulance was called to examine the brunette at the insistence of David. Victoria, aware that whatever was ailing the hipster was likely not medical related, put forth little more than a token resistance given that she had no believable explanation on why it was unnecessary. The EMT's had examined her but were unable to find anything in need of medical attention. As a result, the brunette was released after being advised to get plenty of rest and fluids. So with an assist from David, the blonde had brought hipster back to her room to recover.

"We cuddled for a bit… but you were pretty out of it, so we just passed out for the night," Victoria continued while rubbing Max's back with one of her hands. "When I woke up you were still out, so… I went to get breakfast."

Max immediately perked up after hearing one of her favorite words; breakfast.

"Hope you're up for some Two-Whales," Victoria continued, before glancing towards the brunette for confirmation. Receiving an enthusiastic nod in return, the blonde snickered at the sight of Max inhaling deeply with her eyes closed in an attempt to discern the nature of the delicious grub before continuing. "I got us a bacon omelet and a Belgian waffle; I was thinking we could sharesies?" Victoria suggested, making a cutting motion with her right hand before immediately taking note of the surprised look on the hipster's face. "I asked Joyce what you liked," she remarked, answering the question before Max had a chance to ask it.

Settling around the couch for breakfast after deciding to go sharesies, the girls playfully bickered over which portion of each breakfast was larger. Eventually conceding first choice for each breakfast to Max, the blonde cited the formers heroic antics as an excuse in an overly elaborate gesture. While exchanging awkward giggles between internment mouthfuls of the exquisite cuisine, Victoria turned on the TV to check on the latest news. Turning to channel 8, the headline at the bottom had immediately caught their attention.

POLICE ACTION IN ARCADIA BAY – Business mogul taken into custody

Displayed on screen was a replay of footage showing Sean Prescott being lead out his home in handcuffs by the police shortly after 7:00 am. The man had been escorted within a few feet of the squad car when a familiar face abruptly emerged from the side of the frame. With a faint outline of bruise visible on the right side of her jaw, the girls exchanged a quick glance at the spectacle of reporter Maggie Maggenhall's desperate attempt at obtaining a suitable sound bite. Turned away almost immediately by the police officers escorting Prescott, the reporter's downtrodden expression made a brief appearance before moving off-screen drawing a giggle out of the girls.

"I can't believe you punched her," the brunette stated admonishingly.

"Hey… she was messing with my girl," Victoria implored defensively.

"Your girl? I don't think I was your girl at that point." Max teased.

"Shut up… you just didn't know it yet," the blonde mutter, blushing over the implications of the admission.

Outside of an announcement of a press conference later in the afternoon, there had been little in terms of an official word from the authorities. Therefore, comprising mostly of speculation and unconfirmed reports, the local media was largely drawing their own conclusions suggesting the nature of the police activity was in connections the shooting death of a former student at Blackwell Academy. Returning to the studio, the coverage transitioned away from covering the morning's events towards a general overview of the suspicious events that had transpired in Arcadia Bay, dating back to the initial disappearance of Rachel Amber. During which, Max reached for the television remote to turn down the volume before turning to face the blonde.

"Is it really over," the brunette asked in disbelief after a moment of silence.

Meeting the eyes of her girlfriend, Victoria smiled softly before answering, "Babe… it's over, you got 'em." Hoping to alleviate any concerns that hipster may still have, she continued, "You did it… for Chloe, for Rachel… for everybody."

With tears now forming in her eyes, Max could barely manage to reply, "I hope so, I just… I just hope they can rest now."

After spending sometime wrapped in each other's embrace, they returned to finish their breakfasts. The news had little to offer in the form of new information, having moved on an assortment of talking heads to fill air time until there was something of note to report. Trading comments over the derivative nature of the segments, the girls eventually placed the television on mute, in favor of providing their own sarcastic interpretation of the discussion. Eventually finishing their breakfast, they each sat on the couch rubbing their newly distended stomachs, wondering how either of them managed to consume the entire array of breakfast deliciousness.

"So what do you want to do now?" Max inquired, trying to hid the discomfort from her over indulgence.

"Well after that breakfast… I could use a nap," Victoria replied with a laugh.

"Hey… that sounds good to me," Max offered, "I'm up for anything right now as long as it involves you, me, and this bed."

"Really?" Victoria teased back. "That's good to know," she continued being coy as the two crawled in to bed together.

"No tickling damn it," both girls said in unison followed by a laugh as they snuggled closer to one in other.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, after this, there is an epilogue and then an alternate ending before we start the photo jump path. Thanks for reading. please comment; praise, critique, predict or correct.


	39. FD Epilogue

Epilogue - summer 2014

“Welcome to the Rock,” Max said in her best Sean Connery voice, although the impression more closely resembled Christian Bales’ rendition of Batman, as the two stepped off the ferry and onto Alcatraz Island off the coast of the San Francisco Bay.

“Oh god,” Victoria bemoaned, “how long have you been holding on to that one?”

“Since we first got here,” Max confirmed, smiling from ear to ear.

“God, you’re such a dork,” Victoria teased before given her a quick kiss as they began to walk in from the landing dock.

It was the summer of 2014, and Max and Victoria had been accepted to the photography program at the California Institute of the Arts after graduating from Blackwell Academy a few months prior. Anxious to move on with their lives, particularly for Max, their remaining time at Blackwell proved to be difficult. Despite the arrest of Jefferson, and the subsequent resignation of Principle Wells, their presence still cast a shadow over their remaining time at the school. Over the following weeks and months, the campus was frequently subjected to an immense media presence as the morale of the students and faculty became increasingly despondent as the extent of the atrocities inflicted by the formerly prestigious professor became public. As the media attention eventually began to wind down, segments of the population attempted to return to some semblance of normalcy, but it was clear the prospects of attending Blackwell would never be the same.

Moving down early to get acclimated to their new surroundings, Max and Victoria had a significant amount of time to prepare for their first college semester. A combination of scholarships, in addition to assistance from the blonde’s parents, had their living expenses largely covered leaving them free to focus on their studies, and each other. With their relationship having formed over particularly stressful circumstances, the pair experienced some difficulties from both internal and external sources as they transitioned to a more normal relationship dynamic. While their relationship encountered hardships typical of most couples, the bond the pair had formed had proved strong enough to withstand and hardship. This subsequently offered another reason for moving down early as it afforded the girls an opportunity to reconnect and strengthen their relationship. Using the time to check off some the more touristy attractions in the area, Alcatraz Island was one of their last stops before the fall semester officially began in earnest. Although their time off may be coming to an end shortly, but the girls were determined to make the most of the time they had left.

“Maybe suggesting the night tour wasn’t my best idea,” the brunette mumbled as they approached the one of the main buildings

“Aw come on,” the blonde responded before teasing her, “I heard only a couple of inmates got left behind when they closed this place.”

“Not funny V,” the brunette replied, clearly not amused.

“Aw… I’m sorry,” Victoria teased, “come on; let’s take some photos before we go in.”

Approaching a balcony area overlooking the main facility with the backdrop of the Golden Gate Bridge, the pair agreed it was an excellent location for a few scenic shots. Unable to escape the notion that something was missing, Victoria decided that the moment would be a perfect opportunity to snap a few photos of the brunette. With the hipster in the midst of trying to line up the perfect angle to capture shadow of the bridge overlaying the main cell block, she heard the faint sound of a click from a camera. Hesitantly drawing her attention away from her Polaroids view finder, she saw the blonde smirking back at her.

“Hey… what the F?” the brunette protested.

“Relax babe… I got your good side,” Victoria insisted, still smirking, in an effort to placate the hipster. “I couldn’t resist… you looked so cute trying to get the perfect shot.”

“Oh… and what side is that?”

“Your… back side,” the blonde muttered, becoming self-conscious midway through the sentence.

Moving closer to her girlfriend, Max had been unable to maintain the pouting expression on her face as she burst out laughing over the blonde’s comment on her most aesthetically pleasing vantage point. With there still being a few moments to spare before the actual tour commenced, the pair snuggled together in the chill of the northern wind as they watched the sun begin to disappear beyond the horizon. Sinking into the others embrace, no words were spoken as they simply took in the view in the comfort of the others presence. Eventually, they reluctantly broke from the other as it became time for the actual tour as the guide emerged from the building. Making their way through the entrance, the hipster could feel the increase in nerves as the lighting became increasingly dim. As they entered one of the main cell blocks, to the amusement of Max, it became clear that she wasn’t the only one getting freaked out. When the first cells came into view, the strength of Victoria’s grip on Max’s hand had spiked to the point that her knuckles where turning white.

“Too bad they had to close this place,” the brunette muttered, “this place is terrifying.”

“I know right,” the blonde countered while examining the deteriorating condition of one of the cells. “Think they would reopen it? At least for one inmate,” she continued, her voice trailing off and allowing the suggestion that the cell would be suitable for Jefferson.

Along the tour, they stopped to take some of the more touristy photos, much to the chagrin of Victoria. They each got a shot of the other pretending to be locked in cell and pretending to be a lookout from the guard towers. The tour eventually came to a lull, allowing the girls an opportunity to sneak off for a moment to themselves. They managed to find a rather secluded spot to witness the last rays of light over the bay before nightfall.

“I thought we would be able to get some more good shots,” Victoria resumed before looking around them, “too bad there’s so many fucking people.”

“Yeah… having a tourist in the middle of the shot kind of ruins it for the portfolio, doesn’t it?” the hipster replied with a laugh.

After sharing a laugh, the two girls fell silent for a moment as they took in the scene around them while enjoying each other’s company. The northern wind rustled the leaves in the trees and faint sound of waves crashing into the island filled the void around them. Off toward the horizon, the small ship could be spotted drawing into the bay. Eventually, Victoria noticed a shift in the brunette’s body language indicating that a serious conversation was coming as she opened her mouth.

“This feels… this feels like a fresh start doesn’t it,” the brunette began sheepishly.

“It does,” the blonde responded whilst smiling, “all the… drama… all the problems of Arcadia are behind us.”

“Blackwell… Arcadia Bay…” the brunette interjected with some hesitation in her voice, “after everything that happened, I’m… I’m just glad to leave that place behind.”

“Me to,” the blonde said as she nodded in agreement, “there’s just too… too many ghosts now.”

“But I feel like being here now…with you,” the brunette continued, now suddenly very nervous, “I can finally move on… finally have a fresh start.”

Her heart melting at the sentiment behind the brunettes words, Victoria struggled the find the words to reciprocate the feeling that the brunette had given her. She had done her best to hide it, but Victoria could tell that finishing high school in Arcadia Bay had been a struggle for Max. The blonde had done her best to support her girlfriend, but any support she could provide was limited. In part, due to fact Max initially wanted to keep some of the horrific details to herself in order to spare her from having to know what she had been through. Eventually, the blonde convinced Max to share the burden of her traumas in much of the same way she had shared in the burden of bringing down Jefferson and Prescott.

“I couldn’t have gotten through that week without you V,” Max said after breaking away to make eye contact with the blonde. “You were there for me when I need someone the most and…”

Sensing that Max had begun flailing with her words, Victoria interjected to reassure the brunette. “Max, I… I was just honored that you trusted me enough to share what you were going through.”

“I realize now that’s… that was when I…” the brunette continued, flailing with her words before finally overcoming the doubt to finally get the words out that had been stuck in her throat all day. “realized I… love you, V,” the brunette said before immediately becoming too nervous to make eye contact with the girl she just professed her love to.

Without saying a word, Victoria took the pointer and middle finger on her right hand and used them to tilt the brunettes head up to face her. Having done so, the blonde smiled before offering her reply.

“I love you to, Max”

With their feelings laid bare, the onset of tears was met with a gasp of relief before their lips met in a passionate kiss. No one else on the island would’ve attested to this, but from their point of view, a massive impromptu fireworks display had been set off behind them. Eventually the pair withdrew from each other knowing full well that if they continued, there was no guarantee that they would be able to stop. San Francisco was liberal, but not quite that liberal as for a display of that nature to be considered appropriate in public. Their passion having subsided for the moment, the two girls fell back into a more relaxed embrace and resumed watching the sunset of the bay area. They remained in silence for a few moments before Max’s face was met with a mischievous smirk.

“So you know I’m totally going to kick your ass this year at photography right?” Max started being unable to hide her grin. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll bring you along to some of the showings I’m in…”

“Oh hell no bitch,” Victoria said having immediately taken the bait. “It is sooo on now,” the blonde proclaimed before breaking a long standing truce between the pair.

“No… Damnit… No tickling,” Max cursed out through fits of laughter, “we had a truce woman!”

The two girls were aware of the fact that they had probably made themselves quite the spectacle to anyone within view, but in that moment, neither of them could’ve possibly cared any less as they had become entranced in the moment to give any consideration to those around them.

 


	40. FD Alt Ending

Chapter 40 – Alternate Flash drive ending

Darkness, Max found herself surrounded by nothing but darkness.

In the moments following the gunshot, Max saw the images of one possible fate replaced with another before her eyes.

An image of Max and Victoria kissing after they had each tossed their cap at their graduation from Blackwell burned away to be replaced by an image of Victoria and Kate hugging at the brunette’s funeral.

An image of Max and Joyce laughing with tears in their eyes over stories about Chloe burned away to be replaced by an image Joyce crying alone over pictures of Chloe.

An image of her father, Ryan Caulfield, walking Max down the aisle burned away to be replaced with an image of the man serving as a pallbearer at his daughters funeral as her mother Vanessa, was inconsolable in the background.

 

Abruptly, the brunette regained consciousness as her eyes shot open while gasping for breath face down on a dirt path. Pushing herself off the ground, Max surveyed the area around her, immediately recognizing it as the pathway to the lighthouse. Although, in a deviation from the previous instances she found herself here, there was no rain, no indication of a storm and the sun was just about an hour away from dipping beneath the horizon. Noticing the stark contrast from the previous experiences, she proceeded up the trail toward the lighthouse. Along the way, Max became overwhelmed by a sense of calm as her mind found true peace for the first time. Gone were her worries, her insecurities, and her imperfections.

Drawing closer to her destination, the brunette encountered many of the signs she had seen over the past few weeks. To her right, a blue jay landed on the sign to flap its wings and let out a chirp before taking off in flight.

Be free little guy, Max thought to herself

Further along the path, Max came across a white bunny nibbling away at some foliage, before it glanced up at her after noticing her approach.

Aw, so cute. Get your nosh on little guy, she thought, laughing at the idea.

Continuing on the path, Max came upon the doe that had been her guide over the last couple of weeks.

“So… I guess you’re… my spirit animal?” Max said as the doe looked directly at her. “Good to see you again buddy, I guess… thanks for all of your help,” she continued, laughing at the concept of talking to a spirit animal.

As the brunette finished her clumsy attempt at showing gratitude, the doe raised its head before turning to look in the direction of the lighthouse. Taking the hint, the hipster resumed the trek toward the summit. Reaching the edge of the woods, she paused in hesitation at the sight before her. Venturing into the clearing on the face of the cliff, Max saw the familiar blue butterfly fluttering through the air. Following the butterfly’s path with her eyes, she noticed someone sitting on the bench overlooking Arcadia Bay.

It was her best friend, her love… her Chloe Price.

Max, becoming blind to anything else, rushed forward and Chloe stood up to meet her embrace. In that moment, they joined together to become a single entity as if they were two halves of the same whole. Finally, after savoring the familiarity of the reunion, the two girls reluctantly pulled away from each other to notice the other had tears running down their checks.

“You’re early,” Chloe said finally breaking the silence hanging in the air.

“I’m sorry… but I told you I couldn’t live without,” Max responded while continuing to cry. “I have to believe I’m here now because I wasn’t meant to live without you.”

“What the shit… what do you mean?” Chloe asked, clearly annoyed by the idea.

“I never told you this, but… when I saved you in the bathroom, it was actually the second time I saw it happen.” Max began to explain. “The first time it happened… it didn’t go so well, all I could do was jump out and scream no. Nothing happened, no rewind… nothing, I saw you drop and then… I saw you… then I saw you die.”

Chloe, doing her best to follow along, was clearly having a hard time following the brunette’s attempt at an explanation. “Okay… so then what happened?”

“I felt a shock, then… everything went black and then I woke up back in Jefferson’s class hearing the same lecture.”

“What? How the shit?” the blunette responded in disbelieve.

“I don’t know Chloe,” Max admitted, “it’s like when we’re watching Blade Runner. You know the “Tears in Rain” monologue at the end, and how we would watch it over and over? Well rather than rewind, we’d just skip back to the start of the scene.”

“Damn, Super Max,” Chloe teased, “that actually… kind of, sort of… maybe not really made sense.”

“So… I have to believe I was meant to save you that day,” Max continued while shaking her head. “and if I wasn’t meant to die in that hallway… I would’ve skipped back to before David had been taken by Jefferson.” After finishing her last thought, an awkward silence hung in the air begging for one of them to break it. “You’re my heart Chloe Price,” Max said while looking her in the eyes, “There is no Max… without Chloe… we were meant to be together… always..”

“Damn Max, how about we start with a drink first before we get to happily ever after?” Chloe teased, falling back into the habit of making a joke when she was uncomfortable.

Having either accepted the brunette’s explanation, or perhaps losing the motivation to argue, Chloe relented and sat down on the bench before motioning the other girl to join her. The two sat on the bench overlooking the bay for several minutes, taking in the spectacle of sunset, before Max began to share the experience of the week with the blunette. Initially being somber in tone, the story eventually had them sharing as many laughs as there were tears. After recounting how her initial attempts to find evidence had come up empty, she acknowledged that Victoria’s support had been integral in finally being Jefferson to justice. After which, Max couldn’t help but snicker at the obvious look of jealousy on the blunette’s face at the mention of the blonde.

“Aww don’t be jealous Chlo,” Max teased, admonishing the other girl. “You know you’ll always be my number one girl,” she finished before closing her eyes and sticking out her tongue.

“No emoji,” was all that Chloe could offer as a rebuttal.

With both girls laughing at the exchange, Max resumed her story. Her efforts having turned up nothing, Max recounted the sense of hopelessness that she began to feel. It had been Victoria who came up with the idea for the next step, although that didn’t turn out to be particularly successful having resulted in her getting taken to the darkroom. While detailing the experience, she would feel a sudden surge of guilt each time the blunette’s face transitioned from anguish to anger over the severity of the adversity she endured.

“I’m hella going to kick her ass next time I see her,” Chloe promised, much to the amusement of Max.

Although the plan hadn’t gone off with flying colors, it did lead Max to the confrontation with Jefferson and Prescott as well as the reveal of the flash drives existence. Eventually arriving at the point in the story in which she detailed her escape from the dark room and leaving a befuddled Jefferson in her wake, Chloe jumped up and did her best impersonation of a Tiger Woods celebratory fist pump, much to the formers amusement. Finally reaching the conclusion, Max detailed their attempts to evade Jefferson at Blackwell with Chloe hanging on every word.

“…so that’s how I ended up in the hallway facing down Jefferson’s gun,” the brunette concluded, whipping away a tear before waiting for a response from Chloe.

“Max…” Chloe muttered, struggling to find words through tears of her own, “I’m so sorry you had to go through all this...”

“I’m not,” Max said with a faint smile, “it led me back to you.”

“Max… you deserved to live a full life,” the blunette said, now sobbing just as hard as the hipster, “I had my chances, and I pissed away every one of them, but you… you literally had the world at your fingertips.”

“I know,” Max admitted, “but it wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

Able to offer nothing more than tears and a nod, Chloe placed her arm around the back of the bench before Max rested her head on the blunette’s left shoulder. Having no more words to share, the two just held each other close while looking over the bay as the Golden Hour came to a close.

 

“So what do we do now?” Max asked curiously.

“Whatever we want Bat-Max,” Chloe replied suggestively, “wanna shot some bottles at the junkyard?”

“Uhh, only if you collect the bottles this time,” Max countered with a laugh.

“Nah, forget it then,” the bluenette teased with a laugh, “that shit looked terrible.”

“I’m so happy you’re my partner in crime…” Max stated reminiscing about the last time they had this exchange.

“…As long as you’re my partner in time.” Chloe complied while rolling her eyes.

With the brunette’s death, everything had come full circle, as the wound on time itself had been closed. The hipster’s death was her release; as it gave her freedom to be with the girl she loved. In the back of her mind she wondered what it all meant, what had been the point of it all, but Max knew that she was unlikely to ever get those answers. So rather than dwell on ideological questions, the brunette decided to just be thankful for the fact that in the end she and Chloe had found their way back to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this is the end of the first path I hoped you enjoyed it. Initially I considered constructing the ending around another reader choice which would have determined what ending you got, but ultimately I decided to not do that. If you’re curious the idea I had was Max would have to decide whether or not to kiss Victoria before venturing into the hall. If she did, time would skip back and the story would follow the first ending. If not, then this alternate ending would take place. The idea being that if she kissed Victoria, it would have signified Max was ready to/could move on with her life. If not, then she was destined to be with Chloe.  
> So please share; what ending did you prefer? I’m curious if most of you reading this are not pricefield shippers. Do you think my idea for a second reader choice would’ve worked better? As always, please comment. Praise, critique, or correct.   
> Also, is it interesting when I share some of my original/scraped ideas? I’ve been thinking of putting something together detailing my original vision for the story and how it continued to evolve over time as ideas were reworked or scrapped in favor of new ones. Would there be interest in something like that? Not sure on length, but probably a few thousand words.  
> Now next week, the photo jump path begins. Hope you continue to join me as I finish up my first fic. Thanks for reading.


	41. Chapter 41 - Photo Jump 1

Chapter 41 – Thursday, the 17th \- PM

As Max thought of the decision that lay before her, the answer became clear; she had to use the photo.

In her mind, the risks associated with continuing on in this timeline were greater than the potential benefits. The escape from the darkroom had left her exhausted, barely able to stand, and subsequently rendered the prospect of walking any measurable distance seemingly an insurmountable obstacle. Terrified at the notion of losing consciousness only to reawaken in the darkroom, the brunette resolved the photo jump was the preferable of the two options knowing full well that should she fail, it was likely Jefferson and Prescott would never have to face justice.

The photo jump carried the substantial risk of the unknown; but without her strength, the chances of survival, much less success, were bleak at best. Rummaging through her messenger bag for the photo, the brunette was hit with a moment of pause. Retrieving the photo of Victoria, the memory of the first photo jump crossed her mind. Despite having the best of intentions, the attempt had gone horrifically wrong as the effort to save William had resulted in Chloe being paralyzed on her death bed. Pushing the doubts from her mind, the hipster was resolved in her decision while seeking reassurance in the fact the change would be no near as drastic as saving a life. Still, she knew there could be no going back, no second guessing, by making this choice; the current timeline would be lost as it would almost certainly result in a different outcome. Max knew that for her to have any chance at succeeding she had to be committed to her choice; the stakes were high on his path and once she started down it, there wouldn’t be another chance.

With a tinge of fear at the possibility of making the wrong choice in the back of her mind, Max anxiously pulled out the photo and focused on the image before her. In accordance with the previous photo jumps, the image became distorted as her vision blurred before hearing faint echoes of the sounds that had transpired at the time the image was captured. Attuning perfect focus with the polaroid, the image became flush with warm colors, highlighting various features of the blondes face. Progressively increasing in brightness, the brunette’s vision abruptly drowned in white before dissipating to reveal she had returned to the moment she had taken the photo in the dormitories the previous day.

As her eyes adjusted to the new environment, the hipster lowered the Polaroid from her face. Shaking her head slightly from side to side in an effort to clear her senses, she surveyed the room to get her bearings. Having regained her composure, Max stood up abruptly in search for a notepad before stumbling into her desk. Noticing the sudden change in demeanor, Victoria’s attention diverted to the brunette before inquiring if something was ailing the brunette.

"Max… what’s going on?” Victoria question, the concern evident in her voice.

“Oh I…” the brunette stammered as she winced in pain. “Head rush… I must’ve stood up to fast.”

Momentarily considering trying to explain the situation to the blonde, Max quickly discarded the idea given the tenuous the time available to her was. As regardless of the time constraint, the prospect of explaining either the nature of the visit or the physics behind it was daunting to put it mildly. Having located a suitable notepad, the brunette’s attention was divided between two objectives; finding a plausible explanation for her behavior and crafting a message with enough detail to explain the circumstances to her past self.

“I just thought of something quick,” Max muttered, her mind consumed by the note. “I want to jot it down before I forget.” Convincing herself that she had bought that well enough, Max tried to write down as much detail as she could.

Hey Max… this is future Max.

Don’t go to the storage facility, it’s a trap. Seriously, the empire might not be there but you should still take evasive action. They’ve been on to you since the barn.

Jefferson is working with Prescott but plans to set him up to take the fall for everything. He has a flash drive with footage from the darkroom, try to find it. As far as I know he has it on him.

Keep Victoria safe; don’t let her go anywhere alone.

With that part done, Max walked over and sat down next to Victoria, as she tried to think of what would be the best words to leave her with.

“Hey, just be careful okay?” Max began before she could see Victoria looking at her curiously.

“Yeah…of course Max,” Victoria replied not sure where this was coming from, “What’s gotten into you all the sudden?”

“I just…I just don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you…” replied the brunette as her voice trailed off. After an awkward moment, the hipster leant in for a kiss when the room became engulfed in light as the substance of reality dissipated around her. Present in the light, the brunette witnessed unknown events override the familiar past.

An image of Max’s nighttime stealth mission into the storage facility burned away to be replaced by an image of the brunette peering over her shoulder while approaching an unknown building.

Followed by an image of the hipsters interrogation at the hands of Jefferson and Prescot disintegrated to ash to reveal an image of Jefferson watching his prey from a distance.

As the brunette’s consciousness connected with her present day body, the first sensation she felt was the chill in the air on her skin. After her vision was initially obscured with the customary brightness of a flash, her sight began to return as the light dissipated into the surrounding area. Feeling as though her brain was in a fog, the hipster became increasing anxious as she struggled to see through the remaining brightness around her to identify anything in the surrounding area. Still unable to discern her location, Max attempted to sit up before finding her limbs to be unresponsive as she felt to lethargic to move. Panic began to set in as the realization hit that her cognitive ability hadn’t fulling recovered after returning to the present. Deciphering noise for the first time, the sounds were muffled as the presence of sound became audible as she began to pick up words spoken deep in tone and seemingly in slow motion. Struggling to distinguish any meaning behind to gibberish, the brunette’s heart sank at the sound of a familiar click.

“Oh that’s great,” Mr. Jefferson exclaimed. “Oh Max.” *Click*

“This angle highlights your purity, see? The slightly unconscious model is often the most open and honest. No vanity or posing just… pure expression. Oh Christ… Look at that perfect face.” *Click*

Recognizing the voice, the realization of the deviations that had occurred in this timeline hit like a ton of bricks. Discovering that she was back in the darkroom, although this time, apparently having been drugged based on how lethargic she was. With her senses beginning to clear, she attempted to change positions in an effort to determine if any other factors had changed.

“Hold that stare there! Stay still!” *Click*

Why was I drugged this time, Max thought to herself?

Considering the possibilities, Max hypothesized that the most likely reason for the deviation was the absence of Prescott to prevent Jefferson from drugging her. Realizing that the best chance to uncover the chain of events that lead to the current predicament would be to obtain the information from Jefferson himself, Max attempted to open her mouth in an effort to speak but was unable to formulate anything resembling the English language. Resigned to the fact that there was little she could offer in the form of resistance for the time being, the hipster decided to cooperate, in an effort keep from antagonizing her captor further fearing that doing so would only result in being subjected to another dose. Pleased with his subjects compliance, the repeated clicks of the camera resumed as Jefferson provide his unique style of commentary while occasionally adjusting the brunette’s position. Releasing the tension from her body, Max attempted to envision herself in a more pleasant environment as she endured the remainder of the photoshoot. Eventually, the flashes stopped, and Max was left in solitude as the professor left to examine the product of his work.

Finding herself isolated on that side of the darkroom, Max was able to get a better view of what was transpiring around her. Surveying the surrounding area, she noticed that there appeared to be another unfortunate victim that had also been taken captive by Jefferson. Struggling to determine who it was, the brunette shifted positions to get a better look at the other person. Not believing her eyes, she blinked her eyes repeated hoping that her eyes were deceiving her, before her heart sank after the effort proved fruitless. Somehow they had been taken to the darkroom because of her, because she attempted to alter the timeline. Unable to control her emotions, Max let out a cry in anguish while beginning to sob.

Forcing herself to admit what she saw was in fact real; she finally acknowledged that the person in the restraints was Warren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shocked? Appalled? Annoyed? Please share any thoughts...


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42 – Thursday the 18th - PM

It was him; the fellow captive in the darkroom was none other than the loveable dork Warren Graham much to the dismay of Max. Albeit, the boy could be a bit over zealous at times, but the brunette had formed a strong friendship with over the course of her tenure at Blackwell Academy, having relied on him for assistance on more than one occasion in the original timeline. Adding to the hysteria of her initial reaction, she wasn’t able to discern whether or not he was still alive. Desperate for answers, the hipster pivoted on the floor with her legs in pursuit of a better angle before attempting to call out to her friend.

“War… Warren,” she struggled, still feeling the effects of the drug.

“Relax Max, he’s not dead,” Jefferson interrupted, having pulled himself away from his work to join them on the far end of the darkroom. Adding condescension to his voice, he continued, “Well… at least not yet anyway.”

The photoshoot finished, Jefferson moved Max from the floor to a chair before fastening restraints to both her wrists and ankles keeping her bound to the piece of furniture. During the transition, panic over the uncertainty over what her captor had in store for her griped the brunette. Eventually, being clasped to the chair came as a relief, as it had given her a stay of execution, at least for the time being. After securing the hipster to the chair, Jefferson crouched down to observe his prey at eye level before opening his mouth to speak.

 “So I’m guessing you’re pretty confused right about now,” he began sincere in tone, “well you’re not the only one. A… colleague of mine is on his way, and when he gets here… we’re going to have a little chat.”

“Fuck you, Jefferson,” Max spouted, having lost her composure.

“See… Max, that’s your problem… you should be a little more grateful,” Jefferson continued unabated, “You’re going to have a choice. You get to decide not only how your final moments will be, but… also those of your friend over there,” he concluded while gesturing to Warren. “Depending on how cooperative you are; your finally moments can be quick or they can be spent in agony.”

At that moment the sound of a door opening cut through the room interrupting their exchange. Followed by the sound of footsteps, Jefferson’s attention returned to Max as he gestured that his colleague had arrived. As expected, the approaching footsteps were a prelude to the reveal of the mysterious colleague to be non-other than Sean Prescott. As the businessman came into view around the plastic curtain, Max noticed he carried a look of significant discomfort on his face. Taking notice of that fact, the brunette’s mind began to consider avenues in which the knowledge she had uncovered during the initial interrogation could be used in her favor, realizing that turning her captors against each other presented the highest probability of escape. Trying to anticipate how this instance would unfold, while knowing the only card she had to play was the fact that Jefferson intended to turn against Prescott, she thought back to what had happened last time.

 

“Okay, Ms. Caulfield,” Sean Prescott opened in his most charming voice, “we’re going to ask you some questions… and your answers will determine how… pleasant, or otherwise, this experience will be for you.”

“Right, so Max,” Mr. Jefferson said, taking over the conversation, “here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell us what you know and how you found out about this place.”

As Max considered numerous options on how to approach the current predicament she was met with a range of emotions. Under the pressure and stress of the proceeding two weeks, the brunette was at her wits end. Exhausted, both mentally and physically from the entire ordeal, along with the anger over being trapped in the darkroom on yet another occasion, she no longer had any pretense for subtly. With the added pressure of Warren’s life being at stake, Max decided to proceed with a more aggressive approach in an attempt to gain the upper hand through division. She would confront them in the hopes that the two would be preoccupied with her revelation to pay her much mind.

“Well I know you’ve been setting up Prescott to take the fall for this whole time,” Max answered unable to hide the smugness from her expression, having decided to force Jefferson to react on the defensive by revealing the man’s true motives to Prescott.

After initially being completely taken aback by the accusation, Mr. Jefferson attempted to regain his composure before dismissing her words as a simple act of desperation on the part of the brunette. It wasn’t lost however on Max, who noted that Sean Prescott seemed to take note of the abrupt shift in the professor’s demeanor over the accusation.

“No, I’m serious,” Max reasserted firmly. “Whenever we’re done here, you’re going to submit security footage from here and watch Prescott take the fall for everything.

“What!” Jefferson shouted, “How could you know that?”

 No sooner than the syllables became audible did Jefferson realize that he had been unable to resist the bait Max had tempted before him. Sighing in resignation, he turned to face his colleague who seemed to be handling the news of the impending betrayal rather well considering the circumstances. As Jefferson was stumbling in an effort to offer an explanation for his outburst, Prescott cut him off before he could begin.

“Very impressive Ms. Caulfield,” Prescott began with his words sounding genuine, “but I assure you I won’t be the one falling on the sword for this mess.”

As the businessman spoke, Jefferson eyed him curiously suddenly feeling nervous at over the notion that he hadn’t anticipated everything with his plan.

“Come on Mark,” Prescott continued, beginning to chide his colleague, “you didn’t think you were the only one that had an ace in the hole, did you?”

Jefferson, his eyes now filled with rage, was all but seething at the realization that he hadn’t been in the position of dominance he had thought himself to be in only moment earlier. Max, now suddenly afraid of the prospect that the revelation of the impending betrayal would only solidify the reluctant partnership between the pair, watched the exchange between the two enfold in front of her. From their initial encounter, Jefferson had given her the impression that he had the upper hand entirely, having successfully played Prescott. Therefore, she surmised that revealing Jefferson’s plan would dissolve their partnership by effectively pitting them against each other. Forced into the role of bystander, at least momentarily, the brunette frantically tried to anticipate the end result of the situation. While Warren on the other hand, with the context of the argument lost on him, could do little more than just try to follow along to the best of his ability.

“You had a backup stored somewhere, didn’t you?” Jefferson suggested, finally managing a rebuttal after the initial shock had worn off.

“Of course,” Prescott said bluntly, “I knew something fucked up was going on down here, although I’ll admit, I wasn’t fully aware of the sick shit you were into, so… I had a backup installed as an insurance policy.”

 

The dynamic having shifted completely, the two men sat down to reassess the state of their partnership and consider any changes going forward. As it turned out, the revelation that each had the means to implicate the other changed very little, with the notable exception being that neither would be falling on the sword at the behest of the other. So the plan remained largely unchanged in the idea was to dispose of any evidence that could tie either of them to the events of the darkroom. Although, now with all of the cards on the table, each had the means to burn the other. This resulted in a dynamic similar to the theory of nuclear deterrence through the idea of mutually assured destruction. With both men having the power to destroy the other, the result was that the evidence now acted as a deterrent against going against the other.

When the two men had finished establishing the new dynamic of their partnership, Max felt an intense level of anxiety as their attention returned to the captives. Due to having over exerted herself in the prior timeline, the rewind remained unavailable to the hipster, leaving her subject to whatever fate had in store for her. With a pair of shadows towering over her, the reality of failure began to dawn on her as she accepted she would face her end in the darkness of the Prescott bunker. Distraught, with the onset of tears forming in her eyes, the brunette raised her head, deciding to accept her fate head on.

 

“Alright… well, I think I’ll let you enjoy the rest of your evening,” Prescott began with a smirk, a sense of superiority saturating his voice.

“Yeah? How gracious of you,” Jefferson muttered in response, still distraught over the reversal of fortunes.

“Oh… one more thing, Mark,” Prescott paused for moment before continuing, “don’t kill the girl. We could still need her if we find out she talked.”

Desiring an end to the exchange, the professor merely offered a nod and a slight wave of his hand in response. Satisfied, Prescott retreated beyond the plastic curtain before exiting the darkroom. In the moment after the door latched shut, Jefferson flew into a fit of rage, primarily due to the fact that he had completely underestimated the capabilities his colleague. Unable to lash out against the source of his anger, the next best available option was to subject his wrath to those still under his control. After stomping around for a moment, he raced over to a bag lying against the wall. A chill ran over the brunette as she recognized the contents he was retrieving from within.  

“Don’t worry Max, I’m not going to kill you,” the man said, smiling in reassurance, “he’s right, you still might prove useful.”

Max’s relief over the statement was quickly replaced by terror at the proclamation that followed them. At the conclusion of his previous statement, Jefferson’s expression turned sadistic before he continued speaking.

“But that doesn’t say anything for your friend over here,” he continued, before turning his attention toward Warren.

With the weight of the professor’s words hanging in the air, both Max and Warren met each other’s gaze as their eyes wide with terror. Pleading with Jefferson to reconsider, the desperate effort appeared to have no sway as he ventured to his supplies unabated with a look of vengeance in his eyes. Retrieving another vial the drug to the continued chorus of cries, he filled a large syringe with the clear liquid before turning his attention to the captives. As the man approached, Warren had been left with no recourse but to rely on his fight or flight instinct as he made a feeble attempt to escape by shimmying across the floor. Drawing a condescending scoff in response, Jefferson closed in to level a swift kick to the adolescent’s stomach bringing an end to the desperate attempt to get away.

"It's really a shame it had to come to this," the professor insisted while kneeling down to his captive gasping for breath below him. Using one knee to hold Warren in place, he positioned the syringe between two fingers and a thumb before injecting the full dose into the adolescent’s neck. Finished with the task at hand, Jefferson stood and dusted off the front of his slacks before returning to his bag to gather his possession.

The entire sequence seemingly unfolding in slow motion, Max witnessed every detail of the encounter. Her senses clearing momentarily due to the surge of adrenaline flowing through her veins, she attempted a rewind out of force of habit. The moment her right hand was raised, a piercing pain shot through her mind before letting out a cry in anguish. Realizing the power was lost for the time being, the hipster slowly raised her head as the pain dissipated to witness Jefferson delivering a hard kick to her friends stomach. Recoiling from the phantom pain as though the kick was delivered to her own midsection, Max watched in despair as the professor subdued his target before injecting the drug into his captive’s neck. Devastated over the sense of defeat, the brunette's entire body went limp as her captor rose from his victim.  In utter despair, she collapsed to the floor sobbing at the notion that she had further blood on her hands after failing to save another she cared for. Grief turning to anger, the brunette's attention shifted from victim to perpetrator. Witnessing the smirk on Jefferson's face, she opened her mouth to speak before being cut off by her nemesis.

"This is your fault... you brought him into this," Jefferson proclaim. "He was never walking out of here... neither of you will."

"Fuck you, Jefferson," the brunette replied defiantly. "You may kill me... but it's over for you, you'll never get away with this."

"You know... you could be right," the professor continued, demeanor turning sinister. "I suppose I better enjoy myself while I still can. Sit tight Max, I'll be back for you later."

With that, Jefferson made his exit, leaving the brunette alone with her thoughts and an increasing deteriorating Warren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to share your reactions. Did I go to far?


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43 – Thursday the 18th - PM

“It's a shame it had to come to this, Max,” Jefferson said while injecting Warren with the lethal dose, “but he was dead the moment he showed up at my place.”

Abandoned in the darkroom, the words of Mr. Jefferson echoed through the brunette's subconscious as she found herself in a trance of disbelief over the change in trajectory of this new timeline.

_The moment he showed up? Max wondered, why would he have been there?_

Warren, already feeling the effects of the injection, had begun calling out to the hipster in his state of delirium. Offering her best effort at consolation, Max became desperate to find to extract as much information as possible in the remaining time available to them. The idea being, that any detail he could provide would be enable her to obtain a better understanding of the current predicament and subsequently reveal an avenue of escape.

“Warren... Warren, I’m so sorry,” the brunette began, already in a tone of desperation in her voice. “How did we get here?

“You… you don’t know?” the nerd replied, slurring his words as his breathing became labored. “You went... you went to Jefferson’s…to his apartment.”

“Right... but why are you here?” Max interrupted, desperate to find out if the fault over his fate lay with her.

“I…I followed you,” he finally managed to reply between intermittent gasps for breath, “you seemed… so… so freaked out. I thought you… that you were in trouble.”

The brunette continued the effort for a short time after that, although it quickly became apparent that that was the extent of the information he would be able to provide. In combination of the information from Warren, in addition to a few plausible assumptions, Max was able to formulate a fairly accurate sequence of events that transpired during the time skip. During which, her mind was prominently focused on the unknown surrounding the current state of Victoria, although her absence from the darkroom did provide a small measure of reassurance. The brunette hypothesized that, either during or after, the service at the Prescott’s, she had journeyed to Mr. Jefferson’s apartment, presumably in an effort to obtain the flash drive. However, at some point along the way, she consequently crossed paths with Warren, which had provided him with some reason for concern. Therefore, concerned for her safety, he decided to follow the brunette, which resulted in him being taken along with herself at some point during the endeavor. As for the outcome, and more precisely, the location of the flash drive, she could only hazard a guess. One aspect that proved elusive revolved around the particulars of how exactly she had been subdued in order to be taken into custody.  The initial trip to the darkroom had been the result of being taken by surprised at the storage facility, and her best guess suggested that history had repeated itself at the apartment.

In the midst of considering how Jefferson could’ve gotten the jump on her, Warren’s condition took a turn for the worse. Abruptly losing consciousness, he began to display the symptoms of a seizer before his motion came to a sudden halt immediately after vomiting. Distraught, the brunette helplessly watched his chest continue to rise and fall for a few moments as his lungs drew their last breaths before that motion came to an end. Unwilling to accept the finality of the moment, the brunette's struggled to process the reality before her. Eventually acknowledging that despite her power, she had been unable to save someone close to her, she let out an involuntary gasp before breaking down completely into a sob. Warren was dead, and even with the power of the rewind, Max could do nothing to save him. Eventually, succumbing to exhaustion from the day's events, she finally passed out to get some much needed rest.

 

“Stop!” Max shouted as her mind was abruptly pulled from its sleep cycle.

Startled awake by an unknown sound, the brunette's head shot straight before wincing from a pain in her neck. Recognizing that she was still bound to the chair, Max was brought back to the moment by the sound of the bunker door creaking open. Nerves fully heightened by the sound of encroaching footsteps, she was terrified by the prospect of having to face Mr. Jefferson again. As a figure emerged, it came as a great relief when someone else walked around the corner. If another option had been available however, the brunette certainly would’ve had a different visitor in mind.

“Ah... god damn,” Sean Prescott said as he rounded the corner into the interior section of darkroom. “That sick fuck,” he continued, admonishing at the sight Warren.

“Yeah, and you’re working with that psycho,” Max said, while attempting to evaluate the man's state of mind.

“I’m… I’m sorry about this, Max,” he confessed, “I didn’t want any of this.”

Caught off guard by the candid nature of Prescott’s response, Max stumbled momentarily before continuing to push the conversation forward. “What are you talking about? Then why are you doing this?”

“Everything happened so fast,” he paused while shaking his head before continuing, “Nathan killed that girl and... everything went to shit after that.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” the hipster interjected cynically.

The two continued to talk for a short duration, with Max being continuously surprised by his candor. Over the course of which, Prescott admitted that preserving the family name was the only reason he went along with Jefferson, and that name was above all else as the most important thing to him. At the time, feeling that there was nothing beyond the scope of what he was willing sacrifice, but found himself increasingly at odds with what protecting that name would require. Furthermore, Prescott’s resignation was seemingly compounded by the knowledge that the point of no return was long since passed, and for better or worse he would follow this course to the end.

Initial hope of convincing Prescott to release her was dashed after numerous rewinds failed to result in convincing him to do so. Ultimately to no avail, the brunette had thought it prudent to appeal to the man's conscious and self-preservation at the same time by arguing that the best option available was to turn against Jefferson. Regardless of the approach, the businessman was set on the idea that the chance to turn back was lost when Warren had died of an overdose on his property. Still, the discomfort over the direction that the entire ordeal had taken was evident on the man's face, and the hipster was confident that could be turned to her advantage in some manner. Witnessing a different side offered the brunette a different perspective of the man as he didn’t seem to be an abhorrently evil person, but rather workaholic businessman who valued his legacy more than anything. Finding a way in which to exploit this conflict would be critical if she was to have any chance of improving her current situation.

“Can you at least let me out of this chair?” Max implored, “I’ve been in this thing for hours.”

Eventually following a path sufficiently persuasive through various rewinds, the brunette convinced Prescott that there was no harm in the request to be allowed a small measure of comfort.

Finally, Max thought, this is my chance. Come on... rewind don’t fail me now.

Approaching his captive, Prescott pulled aside his jacket to reveal a side arm in an effort to dissuade the hipster from trying anything foolish while he undid the restraints. Feeling overly confident due to the stature his captive, the look of anticipation on the brunette's face went overlooked as she grew increasingly restless with the release of each subsequent restraint. In the moment the final tether had lapsed, Max simultaneously summoned her concentration while raising her right hand. Watching the proceeding events recede in reverse, she rewound as far back as she was able to prior to Prescott entering the bunker before releasing her grip on time. Taking a moment to collect her baring’s before reaching for the tripod she had spotted earlier, Max took cover behind the same corner Jefferson had ambushed David in the original timeline. As the door lurched open and each subsequent step served as a prelude to her prey's arrival, the brunette struggled to suppress a tremble in her hand as she was running on adrenaline and rage.

“Ah... god damn,” the familiar sound of Prescott's voice echoed around the corner. ""That sick..."" The musings of disbelief came to an abrupt halt after rounding the corner into the main section of the darkroom as Max connected on the full force of her swing. Rendering the man disoriented, the impact caused him convulse forward and down leaving himself exposed for a second impact. Seizing the opportunity, the brunette readied her swing before bringing the full force of the tripod down against the back of Prescott’s head. Unconscious from the hit, and subsequent landing, Max place restraints on the man before taking the opportunity to search for intel. The effort produced numerous useful items from Prescott himself including; his gun, cell phone, car keys and wallet, but notably lacked any of her personal items as her messenger bag was nowhere to be found. In the midst of organizing her newly acquired possessions, Prescott started to regain consciousness. After an awkward moment of silence in which his brain attempted to process what had transpired, he unleashed a torrent of derogatory expletives at the hipster.

“Yeah, that’s nice,” Max responded, showing complete disregard, which only served to enrage the man further.

Standing before her former captor, Max browsed the contents of the wallet before being moderately surprised by the amount of cash located within. Staring down toward Prescott, she smiled before saying, “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to carry around this kind of cash? I mean, what happens if you lose it?”

With those as her parting words, Max left the darkroom and an enraged Prescott behind, before closing the door and walking up the stairs to exit the barn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right stop, collaborate and listen, Max is back with a brand new invention.
> 
> Any thoughts on how this path with be different than the flash drive?


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44 – Photo Jump - Friday 18th 5:30 pm

Pushing one of the barn doors slightly ajar, Max stepped into the open before smiling at the scene before her. Having lost track of time, the visual of the sun setting over the horizon as an indication of the golden hour offered the brunette a moment of calm. Enjoying the serenity, the sunlight pierced through the surrounding trees, flickering with each gust of the ocean breeze. Sighing in resignation over the fleeting nature of the moment, Max reached for her newly acquired phone renewing her focus on the task at hand. Optimistic that the timing of her escape signaled that fortunes were in her favor, she used the phone to call Victoria.

_Please answer V, come on! Max thought to herself impatiently before she finally picked up._

“Mr. Prescott?” Victoria asked hesitantly.

“Oh thank god… V it’s me, is everything alright?” Max asked frantically.

“Max!?!” Victoria responded overwhelmed with emotion, “Yeah… I’ve been… I’ve been losing my shit all day… I didn’t know what… or if something happened. Wait… why do you have Prescott’s phone?”

“He… he uh, let me borrow it. Listen… I’m on my way back to Blackwell,” Max replied with the relief coming across in her voice, “I’ll come find you when I get back.”

Returning the phone to rest of the items, the brunette hesitated momentarily after her attention had been diverted to the handgun. Knowing that she had no experience with firearms, despite Chloe’s best efforts in the original timeline, Max decided some practice with the weapon would be prudent. Debating internally on what would make for the optimal target, she was struck by the memories of her last encounter with a handgun. Remembering the event in vivid detail, Max favored the trees encircling the surrounding area, rather than the rusted out vehicle in front of the barn. Initially struggling mightily in the endeavor, the hipster’s performance improved significantly after envisioning Jefferson’s face transposed on the side of the tree trunk. Recalling her previous Call of Duty experience, the brunette discharged several rounds aiming down the iron sights before repeating the process following a subsequent rewind. Eventually deeming herself capable of hitting a target, or at least not shooting herself inadvertently, provided that the distance wasn’t too great… or they weren’t moving too fast, or at all. Determining the extent of which her shooting ability would level up had been reached; Max engaged the safety before borrowing Prescott’s car to proceed to Blackwell.

Max’s plan was simple; return to Blackwell, find Jefferson, and stop him with minimal collateral damage. With the element of surprise in her favor, in addition to knowing her targets approximate location, the brunette recognized the importance of making use of the advantages afforded to her. After Chloe had been shot, the resulting fallout had resulted in the postponement of the Vortex Club, which had been rescheduled for today. As in the original timeline, Max suspected that Jefferson would be there to announce the winner of the “Everyday Hero’s Contest.” Attending the party would allow an opportunity to assess Jefferson’s current mental state to aid in the formulation of her strategy on apprehending the man, although this plan was subject to a considerable pitfall. Remembering a seemingly minor detail from the original timeline that could be put to use, Max reached for the phone to inform Victoria of the change in plan.

**Prescott:** Hey V, ask Court if she’s up for giving me a makeover.

**Victoria:** Oh god, she almost shot through the roof. I’d say that’s a yes… you sure about this haha

Smiling at the visual from Victoria’s text, Max continued her drive back to Blackwell. On approach to the school, she decided to park in a secluded area to minimize the chance of the vehicle being recognized. In addition to keeping a low profile, the secluded parking spot positioned her closer to the dormitories thereby reducing the risk of exposure as she made her way inside. Arriving in the open, the hipster employed the most casual powerwalk she could manage while keeping an eye out of for anyone that could reveal her presence, inadvertently or otherwise. With the exception having to rewind in order to avoid Samuel, she managed to reach the dorms without detection using stealth to sneak by an oblivious Alyssa, still engrossed in her cheesy romance novel. While on approach to Victoria’s room, the brunette began to question the wisdom of allowing a makeover from Courtney, but she knew the option represented the best chance of concealing her presence at the Vortex party. Bracing for the unknown, she knocked on the blonde’s door having taken a deep breath to calm her nerves.

“Max!” Victoria screamed immediately upon opening the door.

Finally reunited, the girls rushed to embrace after a momentary pause of awkwardness passed before each became lost in the other during a rather lengthy kiss. Eventually breaking the kiss, the girls giggled as they held each other while smiling ear to ear before simultaneously remembering they were in the presence of an audience. Still in each other’s grasp, the couple slowly turned in the direction of Courtney and Taylor, each of whom had been unable to keep their tongue secured in their mouth in response to the affectionate display. Their relationship was far from secret, but Max and Victoria were still attempting to maintain a semblance of privacy, so the apprehension after the overly zealous greeting was apparent on each girl’s face.

“Uh… yeah,” Victoria paused before glancing at the brunette, “so… we’re kind of a thing now.”

“Kind of?” Max scoffed with an exaggerated expression of offense.

“Yeah, we… kind of figured,” Taylor responded with a laugh.

Settling into the dorm, Max laid out some of the ideas she had in mind for the makeover. The majority of which drew immediate disappointment from Courtney over the brunette’s conditions, mostly regarding limitations on what would be considered acceptable.

“No dresses or heels?” Courtney complained with a sigh, “How the hell am I supposed to work with that?”

“Try to think of it… more as a disguise than a makeover,” Max replied feeling slightly guilty for getting the girls hopes up. Perhaps in hindsight, it would’ve been worth mentioning that the spirit of the idea fell in the arena of substance rather than style. “I was just thinking maybe some different clothes and a new hair style…maybe a new color.”

“Ohhh,” Courtney replied, sounding much more intrigued, “What color?”

“I… I was thinking maybe black… with some red in it?” Max answered, although in a tone more befitting of a question.

“Dang,” Victoria responded, seemingly more than a little surprised at the idea while playing with the brunette’s locks, “are you going punk on me now?”

 

With the matter at hand approaching, an all hands on deck approached was necessitated in time for the party. Her new look now complete; Max could hardly believe her eyes as she took in this new version of herself in the mirror. A sentiment shared by Victoria, if the manner in which she was eyeing the brunette served as an indication of her internal monologue. The final ensemble included; black hair with red streaks in the bangs and down the sides, black jeans with a black zip up hood, because some habits are just too hard to break, and a red tank top underneath. Providing the finishing touches on the entire ensemble was; black fingerless gloves, along with black eye liner and lip stick, and of course black Converse All Stars. Her disguise now complete, the new dubbed punk hipster turned her attention back to the other girls, who were, Courtney in particular, positively giddy at the sight of the new Max Caulfield standing before them.

“Dang babe,” Victoria started as she approached biting her lower lip, “when this is over… you’re keeping this outfit right? Maybe… get a few piercings?”

“Stop…” the brunette scoffed before pinching the blonde in the ticklish spot just above her hip.

Departing briefly so that each girl could prepare for the party, in accordance with a few suggestions from the brunette, they reconvened at Victoria’s to formulate a plan for the evening. In the interest of time, Max and Victoria decided to tell them the bare minimum of what they needed to know, choosing to gloss over the whole time travel aspect. The only details shared details were; Jefferson was involved with Rachel’s disappearance and he was dangerous. While sparing some of the more intricate details did save time and effort, it created the appearance of a sizable gap in the brunette’s logic.

“So why don’t we just call the cops?” Courtney asked at the conclusion of their briefing.

“Because we have no proof… if the cops show up… they won’t be able to do anything. This is my… our best chance to end this so no one else gets hurt.” Max answered trying her best not to sound impatient. “That’s why when he’s announcing the contest winner; I’m going to search his car and office.”

“So it’s our job to keep an eye on him while he’s up there,” Victoria said taking over. “All we have to do is keep him from leaving before Max gets back. So stick together, don’t try to warn anybody, and for the love of god don’t drink anything!”

“Wait,” Taylor asked confused, “how are you going to do all of that when he announces the winner?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Max answered bluntly while giving Victoria a smirk.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Notes; hopefully you're excited to see how this plays out. As always, any comments are appreciated. Also the inspiration for the disguise idea came from this image. If you can't use the think, search "punk max" on google images, it should be the first image.  
> http://orig07.deviantart.net/bd72/f/2015/313/e/b/life_is_strange___max_punk_by_generalyobo-d9g307a.png


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45 – Photo Jump - Friday 18th 7:30 pm

Set on their course, the girls disembarked to fulfill their respective roles. Victoria and the mean girls proceeded to the Vortex Party, Max diverted to the parking lot, having decided to search Jefferson’s vehicle first. On approach, the hipster paid only a cursory glance to the surroundings while closing in on her objective. Finding the immediate area relatively deserted upon arrival, Max withdrew the pistol before firing a single round through the back driver side window.  An ensuing car alarm immediately broke the tranquil silence that had previous occupied the area. Noting the presence of a muffled scream in the distance, she reached through the broken window to unlock the driver side door. Breaching the vehicle's exterior, the hipster raised her right hand while gathering her concentration in order to initiate a rewind. Perhaps the measure was a bit of overkill, but the act of shooting Jefferson’s car to be particularly cathartic nonetheless. As time receded into the past, Max watched as the shattered remnants of the back window slowly lifted off the seat, subsequently beginning to merge into larger sections before converging together to reform the solid plane of glass.

_That never gets old, Max thought to herself with a laugh._

Settling into the vehicle, Max conducted an extensive search of every compartment she could think of. In effort to uncover the flash drive, she checked; the glove compartment, center console, all of the little pockets and cup holders, in addition to under the seats and behind the visors. Despite the effort, in the end she came up empty handed as nothing of note was uncovered. Falling back into the seat, the hipster swung both of her fists down against the steering wheel in frustration, before being immediately startled by the sound of the horn. In the midst of her frustration, the hipster’s swing had become slightly unaligned as she inadvertently hit one horn buttons thereby announcing her presence to anyone in the vicinity.

Making their way toward the entrance to the pool building, Victoria along with Courtney and Taylor, attempted to mingle with other members of the student body as natural as possible. Along the way, checking with the various people working the party to ensure the various functions were operating efficiently as the party was still a Vortex Club sponsored event. Approaching the main doors, Victoria paused to check her phone after feeling a sense of vibration in her pocket. Noting the message was from Max via the commandeered phone, a tinge of nerves surged through the blonde.

**Prescott:** Car was a bust, omw to the office

_That’s my girl, Victoria though as she smiled to herself._

Shortly thereafter, no more than a few seconds or steps later; Victoria felt her phone vibrate once again. The level of nerves that had accompanied the initial text was replaced with a subdued level of unease with concern over what could've necessitated a subsequent text in that short of order.

**Prescott:** office was no good either, omw to you now.

Unable to suppress a frown over her girlfriends lack of success, Victoria and her cohorts passed through the entry way and into the party proper. Greeting their arrival was an influx of thumping base, circulating lights from a disco ball, and the presence of a red hue saturating the entire area. Struggling to navigate their way through a sea of drunken people swerving to the beat, the trio eventually reached a relatively secluded area before being startled by the presence of Punk Max waiting impatiently for their arrival.

“Ahh…Damnit Max,” Victoria said while pouting, “don’t do that.

“I’m sorry babe,” Max said, smiling apologetically, “but I over shot... so I had to wait for you.”

Reconvening in order to update the other team members, Max was faced with the challenge of reconfiguring the plan in sort order as a result of the initial phase not proceeding as planned. The initial plan was predicated on the presumption that the search would uncover the flash drive. Therefore, assuming it contained sufficient evidence, the contents would be uploaded to the internet prior to placing an anonymous tip to the authorities. Or rather, if all things enfolded according, that was what the hipster hoped she would do. While informing the police in the event the flash drive was acquired was the favored option of her other team members, there existed a sense within her that outcome wouldn't satisfy her need for justice. Begrudgingly, she went alone with the idea of Victoria and the others, but after what Jefferson had done to Warren, she couldn’t deny that part of her wanted to take revenge. Witnessing another die at his hands further stoked the anger that had begun to fester within her, and Max had become afraid of that anger. Ultimately she was scared, if the two of them were alone and she managed to gain the upper hand, she may be tempted by that need for revenge. As of now, the prospects of him going down easy seemed bleak at the moment, and Max realized the two of them would more than likely face off as some point.

“So what now?” Victoria proposed.

“I don’t know… we need to find some way to get that flash drive.” Max suggested, clearly frustrated by the lack of success thus far.

“Wait... how did you do those searches so fast?” Courtney injected, skeptical the searches could’ve been completed in that amount of time.

“I can rewind time,” the hipster stated bluntly, drawing a look of shock from the blonde. “I did the searches… then rewound to beat you here.”

“Alright then… never mind,” Courtney muttered, looking sorry she even asked.

“Forget it… how about this…” Max began, attempting to refocus.

At an important juncture, Max was faced with two options; either searching for Jefferson or waiting for his anticipated appearance. Eventually, the decision was made to wait for him to announce the winner as it enabled them to observe their target before being forced to commit to any course of action. Speculating that Jefferson would be far too focused on Victoria to notice much of anything else, it was decided Victoria and company serve as a diversion while Max would use the opportunity to get into position to tail the professor after the announcement. Shortly after their new plan had been established, Jefferson finally emerged to announce the winner of the contest allowing the girls to put their plan in motion. 

With the rest of the group on route to VIP section of the Vortex Party, Max broke off diverging from the other girls allotted path, as she began to navigate through the crowd to the familiar beat of “Get Well Soon” by Breton. While making her way through the crowd, Max heard a familiar thud from the other side of the pool before looking to see that someone had fallen in. Peering through the crowd, she was not surprised in the least to see that the unlucky individual was in fact, Alyssa Anderson, as her head reemerged from beneath the surface. Subconsciously raising her right arm, she abruptly pulled her hand back dismissing the notion entirely having become exhausted at the thought. Moving on, the hipster felt a mix of guilt and relief over accepting the idea that she couldn’t save everyone.

_I guess something are just meant to be, Max thought after sighing at the sight of Alyssa struggling to pull herself out of the pool._

 

Shortly thereafter, Jefferson emerged onto the DJ stand tapping the microphone to test in functionality as the music cut off.

“I don’t want to get in the way of the party,” Jefferson started trying not to show the applause actually stroking his ego, “but it’s time to announce the winner of the “Everyday Hero’s” contest.”

Sneaking around the right side of the pool to enter the VIP area unnoticed, Jefferson’s speech played out largely the same as it had in the initial timeline. As Max approached the DJ stand, she was surprised that no one had called out to her. Or at least no one that knew her had called out to her; as she passed right by Dana without the other girl offering as much as a second glance. Her disguise was proving to be more effective than she had anticipated. She had however received a few calls from guys as she moved through the crowd, which wasn’t an entirely new experience for her but the new look had certainly seemed to make her more susceptible to them.

Max had reached the back of the DJ area just as Victoria was being announced as the winner. Watching from a distance, her initial reaction was one of surprise over differently the encountered played out in comparison to the first time Jefferson had announced her as the winner. If any attempt to lead her away from the party had been made; Max couldn’t tell as the blonde had executed the plan perfectly. Victoria thanked everyone, in a much more humble speech than the first time, and promptly exited the stage while ignoring any attempts at conversation from the professor. While he likely hadn’t anticipated simply just leading her out to his car, the man probably intended to at least get a read on the blonde. Frustrated over his in ability to act with so many people around, Jefferson abruptly stormed off of the stage.

Max couldn’t help but enjoy the exchange she witnessed between the two. With its conclusion, as Jefferson made his way to the exit, Max realized she was slightly out of position. Not wanting to take chances, she decided to rewind back to afford herself additional time. Acting in anticipation of his movements, Max made her way to the outside entrance of the pool building where she intended trail him to a more suitable location. As she stood, waiting for the man to emerge from the exit, a sense of panic came over her as she noted the multitude of bystanders upon surveying the scene. When she and Chloe went to the End of the World party in the original timeline, with the exception on Warren, the surrounding area had been relatively deserted. For whatever reason, that wasn’t the case at this Vortex party as there were people loitering about throughout the area. Max hadn’t considered this possibility when devising the plan.

_Shit! Max thought. This is no good… not with all these people…_

Deciding the only option was a last minute change of plans, Max immediately rewound as far back as she could. Reaching for the phone she had commandeered from Prescott, the hipster sent off a couple of quick texts in rapid succession before racing back to the “borrowed” vehicle as fast her skinny legs would take her.


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46 – Photo Jump - Friday 18th 8:30 pm

Max, having reached the car, sped through the streets of Arcadia Bay disregarding the occasion car horn and better judgement in effort to reach her destination as quickly as possible. At the same time, Jefferson stepped off the DJ stand after announcing the contest winner, frustrated by inability to take the blonde due to the level of attention it would have drawn. Dismissing the complication as a momentary setback as he exited the building, confident that he would take her eventually, the professor checked his phone to see that he had received three texts from Prescott.

**Prescott:** Bitch got the jump on me! How the hell did she get loose?

**Prescott:** She took off through the woods; I got her cornered in the junkyard.

**Prescott:** Get your ass out here!

The revelation of their captive's escape stopped the professor in his tracks with disbelief before a state of panic began to set in. Frozen in place, Jefferson's mind raced through the potential implications of the brunette escape. Struggling to process the turn of events, in the subsequent moments, his state of mind transitioned from that of dismay, to one of rage. With his phone in one hand, Jefferson clenched his fists while his anger seethed before unlocking his phone to send off a response. Caught off guard by the news, the professor's mind was more fixated on that the brunette escaped, rather than the how of the matter. In accordance with his inflated ego, the notion that Prescott had somehow fumbled the situation proved to more than sufficiently believable as it played into the notion that he was the superior man.

Working out the details of the ambush during the drive, Max decided to park Prescott’s car in clear view of the entrance to American Rust, as to make it clearly visible when Jefferson arrived. The idea being that the sight of the vehicle could potentially give her pursuer the level of confidence needed to enter the junkyard itself should his own be lacking. Venturing further into the junkyard, the hipster's felt a surge of anxiety after the phone vibrated, serving as an indication that Jefferson had replied and suggest that Prescott, and to quote, “not fuck this up.”

_Wowser, what a douche, Max thought. You're the one who tied my restraints... it's your fault to._

Afforded a few minutes prior to Jefferson's arrival, Max worked out the logistics of the plan in anticipation of any potential complications. While tracing the anticipated steps through the area, the sight of two headlights appeared over the horizon on approach to American Rust. Realizing the moment of confrontation was at hand, the hipster quickly scrambled to evade the lights before taking cover behind a large piece of scrap to await the arrival of her nemesis.

_Let’s do this fucker, Max thought, summoning every bit of resolve she could muster._

Slowing pulling past the interior gate of the junkyard, the professor's black sedan came to rest alongside of Prescott's vehicle. Leaving the headlights on as he exited the car, Jefferson began to venture forward, casting a large shadow in the light over the junkyard. Tracking the man's movements, the hipster's breathing became more intensive as her anxiety level jumped with each subsequent step by the professor. Advancing toward the center of the yard, the man's pace slowed, as he scanned the shadows in every direction for any sign of disturbance. Nearly shaking from the anticipation, Max toppled over a pile of debris as a means of luring the professor in the direction she desired, before retreating to the next designated hiding spot. Taking the bait, Jefferson's focus completely diverted, he quickly dashed toward the source of the noise. With her target in position, Max stepped out into the open to confront Jefferson face to face.

“Hi Mr. Jefferson,” Max said as coyly as she could.

“Max!” he exclaimed in response, surprised by the sudden appearance. Scrambling to regain his composure, he turned in the direction of the noise. “Decided to give… What the hell is that? You turn to the dark side?”

“Oh no,” Max replied dismissively. “I want to see the look in your eyes the moment you realize you’ve been beaten.”

Unable to contain himself over the brazenness of the hipster's notion, the professor burst out laughing before finally replying. “How do you figure that, Max?”

Ignoring the question, Max continued, her voicing shifting from chiding to bone chilling, “It’s over Jefferson... you’re finished.”

Jefferson, clearly no longer amused by the situation, drew his gun before replying, “Alright, enough of this shit, put this on and walk over to my trunk.” In the midst of barking his orders, he casually tossed a zip tie meant for Max to fashion around her wrists, while keeping his gun trained in her direction.

Again, ignoring his words, Max continued on, “You’re going to pay for everything you’ve done; to Rachel… to Chloe… to Kate… and to every woman in those binders, everyone that you hurt.”

With the rage simmering inside Max clearly visible in her eyes, Jefferson couldn’t help but feel a sense of intimidation. Nevertheless, he wasn’t about to show that to the girl standing before him.

“Yeah…I don’t think so,” Jefferson replied trying to maintain his smug demeanor. “I'm good with how things are.”

Forgoing a response, Max simply flashed a sadistic grin at the man in front of her before reaching out with all of her strength to pause the forward trajectory of time at that moment. Fortunately, in accordance with the plan, the professor hadn't moved from the designated position next to the abandoned boat as the plan wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying without the proceeding exchange. Seizing the opportunity, the hipster raced forth before summoning all of her strength to dislodge one of the support beams keeping the boat elevated. Stepping back, with the boat still hung in midair, Max released her grip on time.

With time returning to its accustomed pace, the professor's expression shifted from confusion over the apparent disappearance of the hipster, to one of abject fear as the downward trajectory of the old fishing boat became evident. Relegated to the role of spectator, Max enjoyed the demonstration of gravity subject on her adversary as the expression on Jefferson’s face proved to be even more satisfying than she could have ever imagined.  For It was in that moment that the man realized that he had in fact been defeated.

Never one to pass up a good photo op, Max paused time again as she reached for her Polaroid camera she had collected from her dorm room. In fact, she could think of no better way to commemorate this moment than to honor the number one rule of the man she once held with such admiration.

Always take the shot.

Looking for the perfect shot, the hipster slowly rewound back looking for the perfect shot. Finally finding the exact moment in which the professor realized the boat was collapsing on top of him, his eyes widened and mouth dropped opened reflecting the man's state shock. Having captured the look on his face in that moment perfectly, Max proclaimed that the photo was definitely worthy of being included in the photo wall. Setting the image aside for safe keeping, she returned her attention to the scene before her. Filled with a sense of euphoria over the idea the ordeal was finally over, the hipster decided to savor the moment after all she had been through to that point. Rather than completely releasing her grip on time and let the moment pass, the hipster would watch through the impact of the crash before rewinding back to witness the sequence repeatedly. While the notion that the behavior was sadistic had occurred to her, she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to savior this moment of triumph. During which, taking particular pleasure in two moments; the initial realization of what was happening, and the initial moment of agony after the boat had landed on him. After deciding the sequence had been fully committed to memory in every detail, the hipster finally released her grip on time.

When Max walking through the anticipated sequence for the ambush, one aspect of uncertainty involved how the boats trajectory would impact Jefferson. After all, math wasn’t exactly her strongest subject. The boat hadn’t killed him; rather it had crushed his legs, in a manner akin to the inverse of the house crushing the Wicked Witch of the East. The side of the boat had come down above the knees likely crushing everything beneath it. Inflicting further damage was a thin bar of steel that had broken off and pierced his upper left thigh directly below the waist effectively pinning the man in place between the boat and the ground. As Jefferson lay before her, screaming in agony for help, Max realized she had one final choice to make.

"AHHHHH! Max... you gotta help me,"" the helpless man pleaded in desperation. ""Max... you can't leave me like this... Max!""

With Jefferson's plea's falling on deaf ears for the moment, Max could either call for an ambulance, thereby giving the man a chance at survival or… walk away, and leave him to his fate.

With the fate of her nemesis in her hands, weighting her options, the hipster was plagued with conflict over the choice. In her mind, Jefferson deserved a painful, agonizing death for all of the pain he inflicted on his victims, but was that a matter for Max to decide? The hatred for the man within her burned more intensely than anything she had ever experienced previously. Throughout his reign, the professor had left a staggeringly amount of victims in his wake, in addition to killing Warren right in front of her, and being indirectly responsible for Chloe and Rachel’s deaths. Abandoning Jefferson in the junkyard felt like justice to the hipster, the kind of justice that Chloe would want, and everything she had done up to this point had been for her. Also warranting consideration, in the event the professor survived, he would have to go through the American Justice systems. From what Max could tell, there didn’t appear to be a strong case against him, this created the possibility that a proficient legal defense would be able to negotiate a reduced sentence, if not a dismissal of the charges all together. In that event, he would be a free man, and everything she had sacrificed to that point would have been in vain.

Jefferson deserved to be left here to die alone, but at what cost to Max? From the beginning she had been willing to sacrifice anything, but would leaving him to die come at the expense of what remained of her humanity?

Max took a moment to consider her choice; would she risk the possibility of Jefferson escaping justice or would she risk what remained of her humanity? In the end, what would she choose; Call for help, or walk away?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too call for help, continue to ch 47, to walk away, skip to ch 49
> 
> Author Notes: Alright, here we are, the second reader choice. So what will Max do? Call for help? Or leave Jefferson to his fate? Ideally, you are at least somewhat conflicted on the answer. Let me know. Comment below. Also, please share your thoughts on the confrontation. Was it tense? Satisfying?


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47 – Photo Jump - Friday 18th 9:30 pm

Max wanted to leave, she wanted to leave Jefferson to his fate. It was still a fate better than he deserved after all the suffering he had caused.

But something stopped her. During her initial stay in the darkroom, Max remembered something Jefferson had said, at the time he told her that he was obsessed with capturing the moment that innocence turned into corruption. If she left Jefferson, the hipster realized that would signify the loss of her innocence, the loss of the person she had been. That in the end the professor would’ve captured her innocence, just not through his camera in the manner he had originally intended. Jefferson would’ve broken her, and Max refused to let him corrupt her. As satisfying as it would have been to leave him to his fate, she knew that was a decision that a person couldn’t come back from.

Believing throughout the entire ordeal that no cost was too great, now in the final moment, Max had finally reached the limit of what she was willing to sacrifice. She had been willing to do anything to avenge Chloe, but not if that came at the price of her humanity. Additionally, on some level, the brunette felt a certain level of responsibility to Chloe, to honor her friends sacrifice by living a life that she would’ve wanted for her. Although, there was also a certain level of satisfaction that came with standing in defiance at his attempts to break her, the brunette mostly felt relief having stop just short of the point of no return.

“You lucky piece of shit…” the brunette muttered, the darker side of herself showing through.

“Oh… thank you, Max… wait… what are you doing?”

So the hipster would take pity on the man lying before here by showing him a level of compassion that he didn’t deserve. Having made her choice, she searched through Jefferson’s pockets. Initially, proving to be rather unreceptive to the search, the professor relented after the suggestion of being abandoned to the whims of fate had been presented. Providing the play by play of her search as a means of antagonizing the man, Max searched for his cell phone, deciding to make the call from his rather than Prescott’s. During which, Max came across another item of interest, located within the left front pocket in his sport coat was the flash drive that had proved elusive to that point.

“Hmm… you don’t mind if I borrow this do you?” the hipster inquired, a tone of smugness saturating her voice as she held up the flash drive up to his face.

“Fuck you,” Jefferson snapped back, as it remained the only avenue of defiance left open to him.

“I wish I could stay in this moment forever…but then it wouldn’t be a moment.”

Acquiring Jefferson’s cell phone in addition to the flash drive, Max placed a cursory call to 9-1-1. Holding the phone roughly a foot away from her face, she observed the touch screens display impatiently before dropping it to the ground upon the sound of an answer on the other end. Leaving the line open, the hipster offered a smirk followed by a nod to her fallen adversary before turning to take her leave. At peace with the decision, she couldn’t leave the man to die, but that didn’t mean she had to save him either. By making the call, the man had at least been afforded a chance at survival. A better chance than he deserved as far as she was considered, but the professor’s life wasn’t in her hands anymore, as it wasn’t her place to decide how the man should pay for his crimes.

As the hipster ventured to the entrance of the junkyard, she stopped to leave Prescott’s possessions in his car after taking a second to wipe her fingerprints from the car and erase the data on the phone. Removing any trace of her presence, Max placed the flash drive and directions to the darkroom on the vehicles interior dash board. Having left a trail for the police to follow, the hipster then left the junkyard behind and with it, hopefully the burdens she had carried for the last two weeks. Traveling on foot, eventually she arrived at the Arcadia Gas on the edge of town and called Victoria to come and get her. As the blonde pulled into the parking lot, Max could feel her heart skip a beat. The mere sight of the blonde had been enough to lift her spirits as she felt a smile on her face for the first time since leaving American Rust. Collapsing upon settling into the vehicle, the couple embraced before tears began to be shed; first by Max then by Victoria. With her arms clutching the blonde tight, she shut her eyes tight in an effort to block the outside world as her mind began to process the gravity of what had transpired.

“It’s over,” Max finally said, breaking away from the embrace.

Eventually, the pair returned to Blackwell, where the evening’s festivities were still in full swing. Judging by the state of the campus, one could easily be convinced that the storm had hit the area. The parking lot was littered with trash and cars where left in a manner suggesting that no one was familiar with the concept of a parking space. Observing the various sites along the sidewalk, this hipster was filled with a mix of discontent and jealously over the oblivious nature of the party goers, none the wiser of what had happened or what could’ve happened had she been unable to escape from the darkroom. While making their way to the dorms, the girls were forced to maneuver around several drunken students with only the faint sound of a beat to distract from the sound of someone throwing up in some bushes. Venturing further from the pool building, they traded one unpleasant sight for another, as they were met with the displays of several of Mr. Jefferson’s most notable works on display along the sidewalk.

Exhausted from the entire ordeal, not just in the last two days but rather the last two weeks, Max and Victoria proceeded directly to the hipster dorm in an attempt to find rest. The majority of the trip through the campus was in silence as neither was entire confident on what an appropriate conversation would be as Victoria’s intention was to wait for her girlfriend to be ready to talk. Whereas Max was content to merely hold the other girls hand as they walked, her mind in too thick a haze to be able to handle anything more than that at the moment. In the event that she had succeeded, Max had hoped that the experience would be that of euphoria, or at the very least, comforting over the fact that she could get back to a normal life again. But that was a far cry from what the hipster was actually experiencing, as at this conjure, she felt numb.

Laying in the dark, the room slightly illuminated by the moonlight, Max stared at the wall as sleep continued to evade her. As the two lay together on the hipster’s bed, the finality of the evening became apparent as her brain began to process what had transpired. While occupying the little spoon position, the ache in her heart took a measure of solace from being held tight in Victoria’s embrace. It was in this moment that she had finally been afforded an opportunity to reflect on horrors she had been subjected to; that evening and in the two weeks prior. So much had been lost to the darkroom; Chloe, Rachel, and Warren, in addition to the majority of her innocence. In the end, Max had nearly lost everything, as she had been so close to giving in to her anger in at the junkyard. But in that final moment, she had been able to find and hold on to a piece of who she had once been. With that piece intact, Max had hope that eventually she could retain some semblance of the person she had been on that fateful day in the girl’s bathroom at Blackwell Academy.

News of the previous night’s events began to break the next morning revealing that the paramedics had in fact gotten Jefferson to a hospital in time to save him. As it turned out, apparently he had a stroke of luck since the steal that had pierced his left leg missed the temporal artery by millimeters. Arcadia General Doctors revealed that had the steal penetrated slightly further in, Jefferson would’ve bled out in minutes. The surgery had managed to save his legs but he would likely require the use of a cane to walk for the rest of his life. With the police having followed the hipster’s trail, as he awoke from the surgery on his legs, Jefferson opened his eyes to discover a police officer and that his right arm had been handcuffed to the bed.

In accordance to the trail left by Max, the police arrived at the derelict barn the next morning, where they uncovered Sean Prescott trapped in the darkroom below. When the door to the bunker had been opened, the police found a broken disheveled man who had soiled himself on more than occasion. Taken to the hospital for observation, he too had met a similar fate to that of Jefferson’s as the police placed him under arrest while recovering from the mental breakdown he had suffered after being trapped for over twelve hours.

When national media caught wind of the story, it spread across the global like wildfire. As the more scandalous details began to leak, media members flooded into Arcadia Bay to cover one of the most horrific stories in years. Eventually, the truth became began public and the art world and the business world shunned Mark Jefferson and Sean Prescott respectively. When he and son’s role in the darkroom crimes become known his family became besieged by massive civil law suits, which resulted in both the loss of the family wealth and prestige. On the verge of bankruptcy, the Prescott’s were forced to sell off the majority of their Arcadia Bay assets; including the lumber mill and fishing port before eventually abandoning Arcadia Bay and allowing the town to be out from under their thumb.

In time, new investors would come to Arcadia Bay and the town experienced a renaissance of sorts, with the fishing port and lumber mill being reopened and creating an influx jobs and people moving to the city. It had been costly, and at times the prospects had seemed bleak, but Arcadia Bay had been rid of its two most corrupting forces. Finally it seemed that, along with Max Caulfield, Arcadia Bay would get a second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: it was close, but 3-2 voted in favor of calling for help. thanks to everyone who has read this far. So... what'd you think? Satisfying? Underwhelming? Did I forget to address anything? Epilogue coming up, then the Jefferson left behind option, and then that's it... for this fic anyway


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48 - Epilogue PJ good ending**

Slowly, the brunette began to stir before reluctantly opening her eyes to find herself lying face down on a dirt path. Pushing off the ground, Max surveyed the area around her, immediately recognizing it as the pathway to the lighthouse. Although, in a deviation from her previous visits, there was no rain, no indication of a storm and the sun was just about an hour away from dipping beneath the horizon. Noticing the stark contrast from the prior experiences, she proceeded up the trail toward the lighthouse. Along the way, Max became overwhelmed by a sense of calm as her mind found true peace for the first time. Gone were her worries, her insecurities, and her imperfections.

Drawing closer to her destination, the brunette encountered many of the signs she had seen over the past few weeks. To her right, a blue jay landed on the sign to flap its wings and let out a chirp before taking off in flight.

_Be free little guy, Max thought to herself_

Further along the path, Max came across a white bunny nibbling away at some foliage, before it glanced up at her after noticing her approach.

_Aw, so cute. Get your nosh on little guy, she thought, laughing at the idea._

Continuing on the path, Max came upon the doe that had been her guide over the last couple of weeks.

"So… I guess you're… my spirit animal?" Max asked, as the doe looked directly at her. "Good to see you again buddy, I guess… thanks for all of your help," she continued, laughing at the concept of talking to a spirit animal.

As the brunette finished her clumsy attempt at showing gratitude, the doe raised its head before turning to look in the direction of the lighthouse. Taking the hint, the hipster resumed the trek toward the summit. Reaching the edge of the woods, she paused in hesitation at the sight before her. Venturing into the clearing on the face of the cliff, Max saw the familiar blue butterfly fluttering through the air. Following the butterfly's path with her eyes, she noticed someone sitting on the bench overlooking Arcadia Bay.

It was her best friend, her love… her Chloe Price.

Max, becoming blind to anything else, rushed forward and Chloe stood up to meet her embrace. In that moment, they joined together to become a single entity as if they were two halves of the same whole. Finally, after relishing the euphoria of the reunion, the two girls reluctantly pulled away from each other to notice the other had tears running down their checks.

"You did good Max," Chloe said with a smirk, "couldn't have done it better myself."

"Chloe… I… I couldn't have done this without you," Max replied struggling to get the words out as she was overcome with emotion. "You were there… always pushing me forward, you kept me going."

"That's right," the blunette boasted, "after all what is a superhero without their trusty sidekick."

The two girls continued to laugh through their tears for a moment before Chloe shifted the tone of the conversation to sincere. They talked about the previous week without the blunette, and how the only thing that kept her going was the need to bring down those responsible for what happened in the darkroom. Now with that journey at its conclusion, Max was forced to finally face the prospect of living a normal life without her partner in crime. As she soon came to realize, now that everything was over, the absence of her quest had left a void that as of yet she was unsure how to fill. Would it be possible for her to ever go back to living a truly normal life? Or had this entire experience changed her to the point where she would be uninterested in seemingly mundane things like school and photography. The hipster's passion had always been photography, but after the darkroom, she was unsure if it would remain the case.

"I'll always love you, Max… but I don't want to hold you back." Chloe's tears of joy had turned to those of sorrow as she continued. "It's finally over… but you have so much life ahead of you, so much left to give…"

"Chloe… I can't… I'll never…" the brunette tried to interject before Chloe cut her off again.

"It's okay, Max, I'll be here… waiting for you," the blunette tried to interject with a smile. "But you should know, if things work out with Regina… I don't play well with others."

With a laugh, Max lunged forward to pull the bluenette in for a kiss. Eventually, Chloe pulled away and wiped a tear from the brunette's check.

"It's time to say goodbye, Max," Chloe said, now with tears of her own.

"No… I'm not ready," Max protested as though through sheer force of will she could remain in this moment forever.

Smiling after realizing that there was nothing she could say to convince her otherwise, Chloe offered the only reassurance that she could, "I love you, Max… don't you forget about me."

Max could only repeat the sentiment before throwing her arms around the bluenette before closing her eyes as if to hold onto this moment as long as she could. When she opened them, Max found herself lying in bed, in an apartment she shared with Victoria in California. As she fully awakened, she debated the nature of what she'd just experienced. Was it just a dream or was that really Chloe? Realizing that she would likely never know the answer and that ultimately it didn't matter if it was real or not, Max decided to assume that she had in fact seen the Chloe she knew again. The notion of a final goodbye between them brought with it a measure of peace within the brunette. It would be difficult, as she would always carry with her the loss of her best friend, but Max would carry on. She refused to let the darkroom take everything from her, and she owed it to Chloe to live her life as best she could after her sacrifice gave her, along with so many others, a chance to live a normal life.

Breaking her train of thought, Max's sense of smell lit up as an intoxicating aroma perforated into the bedroom. Drifting away from the uncertain nature of the encounter with Chloe, she crept out of bed before crossing the short distance to the doorway. Recognizing an indistinguishable aroma of breakfast, the hipster attempted to pinpoint precisely what was on the menu this morning by sniffing at varying degrees of length and intensity. Glancing at the floor considering the possibilities, Max abruptly looked up after the abrupt commencement of a guitar rift.

_Come meet me by the river, see how time flow_

_And when we age, shed our skin and grow_

_We shed out layers, spread our wings and go_

_My heart's an old black panther, corrupted financer, you know_

_It's a troubled romancer, a question with no answer_

Venturing closer to the kitchen, Max found herself aghast at the spectacle before her. There she found Victoria, still dressed in her sleepwear, bouncing and swinging her hips to the beat of the music whilst attempting to construct something resembling an omelet. Watching her girlfriend struggle in the endeavor, the hipster had to hold her tongue as the blonde started cursing over the difficulties she was encountering in the preparation of breakfast.

"Fuck!" Victoria whispered under her breath while attempting to fold the slab of egg over itself, "It always rips in half."

"That's what she said…"

"Ahhh… god damn it, Max… you scared me," the blonde protested, holding her chest in shock. "Besides… that didn't even make sense…" she continued, before the slight hint of a smirk emerged on her face.

"Aw… I'm sorry babe," the brunette smirked while closing the gap between them before leaning in for a kiss. "So what's all this for?"

"Well… I wanted to surprise you… but I guess that's out the window," the blonde answered, exaggerating her disappointment.

"That's all right… this was way better," Max teased while dishing up her plate, her smirk now a full grin.

Rolling her eyes in response, Victoria followed suit before joining her girlfriend at the table. "So what do you want to do today?"

"Besides you?" the brunette responded flatly, barely able to contain herself over the joke.

"Oh god… I'm dating a child," the taller girl admonished while shaking her head.

"You knew what you were getting yourself into… besides, you love it."

"That I do Max… that I do…" Victoria muttered in acknowledgement as the girls exchanged giggles and eye rolls while devouring their breakfast.

"But seriously… what do you want to do today?" the blonde asked again as Max collected the plates.

"I already told you…" the brunette replied coyly after placing the dishes in the sink and proceeding toward the bedroom.

"Oh for the love of…" Victoria scoffed before turning to notice Max heading toward the bedroom. Suddenly flustered, she stood up before following the hallway, "Oh… well alright then… but no tickling damn it!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: Well that's a wrap. I hope this chapter came off like I intended, let me know if I succeeded. I wanted to show a Max that has moved on and found happiness with Victoria, but still carries the void left by Chloe's death, and will always carry it. This Max loved Chloe, and that made sacrificing her all the more difficult. That was supposed to be part of why she was so consumed with stopping Jefferson and avenging her memory. I am a little concerned that this will come off as Max leading Victoria on, or that she's using her to replace Chloe and that she doesn't really care about her, but that's not my intent. She loves V, but her feelings for Chloe will always be there. I'm sorry if some of you don't like Pricefield, but this is the story I wanted to tell. Regardless, thank you for being a part of it, please share any feedback. And with that, there's two chapters left, leaving Jefferson to his fate and an epilogue, so hopefully you'll be back next week.  
> PS-the song lyrics are from Birch Tree by Foals, the same band that did Spanish Sahara


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49 – Photo Jump - Friday 18th 9:30 pm

Arriving at a decision, Max realized that she couldn’t risk the prospect of failure so close at to the end, no matter how low the probability. Staring down at her defeated adversary, defeat to the professor’s pleas, she recognized there was only one acceptable option. Having sacrificed so much, having suffered at the man’s sadistic nature, she couldn’t stomach the thought of Jefferson escaping justice one way or another and potentially allowing him to continue his exploits. 

No, I can stop him right now, she thought to herself… I have to stop him right now.

Her decision made, Max met the eyes of the desperate man lying before her, before leaving him with some final words

“Why don’t you go fuck your selfie?” Max said with a smirk, backing away slowly before turning to take her leave.

“Max! Please, don’t leave me here…you can’t leave me here,” Jefferson pleaded with his voice becoming increasingly desperate.

Closing her eyes after a few steps, Max disregarded the prodding of her conscious, summoning her resolve to abide by her choice. Venturing further from the center of their confrontation, the sound of Jefferson’s pleas became increasing faint as she approached the entrance to the junkyard. Arriving at her borrowed vehicle, the hipster took a final look in the direction of her adversary, before releasing an audible sigh and settling into the driver’s seat. Muffled by the sound of tires rotating against the gravel road, the echo of the professor’s pleas became increasingly faint before being silenced completely. Noting the quiet upon reaching a fork in the road, unsure if it was due to the distance having become too great, or if the man had finally succumbed to his injuries, she continued on regardless. Having made her choice, there was no going back, and if at all possible, she wouldn’t ever return to the junkyard again.

While on route to the junkyard’s exit, Max decided to take Prescott’s car back to the darkroom before abandoning it along with any possessions she had acquired. Along the way, restoring the phone’s default settings to remove any trace she had used the device before tossing haphazardly into a creek. Traversing the winding gravel road before arriving at the derelict barn, the hipster faced a moment of indecision. Illuminated in neon white, the vehicles headlights served as a spotlight on the final choice that remained. Staring through the windshield at the building before her, she considered the question of Sean Prescott’s fate. In addition to being a corrupting presence over the entire town, the man had culpability in the crimes committed that forsaken place. Considering the family’s presence hung over the town like a shadow, Max felt the most fitting punishment was for the Prescott, along with his name, to be held accountable in the public eye.

The decision made, Max stepped out of the vehicle into the chill of the night pondering the next step. Smiling at the image of Prescott being discovered bound in his own bunker; she decided to lead the authorities to him. An idea in hand, she began pacing the interior of the barn trying to conjure some method of drawing people to her location. Having disposed of the phone while on route to the barn, placing a call to the authorities was not an option. Realizing that the only feasible option was a signal visible to the people of Arcadia, she stumbled on the concept of a beacon while brainstorming ideas. Ironically, it was that word that provided the spark the hipster needed to devise her plan. Max decided that she would start a small fire inside the barn, and the smoke would act as a beacon and draw people out.

_And if this whole fuckin’ place is wiped off the map, well… two-birds._

Given the derelict nature of the structure, the fire proved easy enough to start with the vehicles cigarette lighter and some paper, after pulling Prescott’s vehicle into the barn’s interior. Closing the main doors behind her, Max watched the small flames grow through the cracks in the rotten wood. Confident that the task had been completed, she afforded herself one final glance at the destruction transpiring by her hand before turning begin the walk toward Arcadia Bay. Thereafter, the hipster arrived at the ominously lit Arcadia Gas on the edge of town as a large plume of smoke began to billow above the tree line. Stepping inside, she used the phone to call Victoria while attempting to ignore the look of suspicion directed at her from the cashier on duty.

“Hey V,” Max began after an answer on the other end. “Yeah, I’m fine…yeah, we’re good…yeah can you pick me up at the Arcadia Gas on the edge of town? …yeah, I’m sure…thanks…see you soon.”

Being afforded ample time while awaiting the arrival of her ride, Max had an opportunity to reflect on the choices that led to this moment. Initially expecting some level of internal turmoil, she was surprised by the lack of contention over the decision to leave Jefferson to his fate.

_Should I feel bad… or at least worried that I don’t? the hipster considered before disregarding the notion. Fuck him… I hope his last moments were in agony._

Finally the blonde pulled into the parking lot, breaking her train of thought as Max felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The mere sight of the blonde had been enough to raise her spirits as she felt a smile on her face for the first time since leaving American Rust. Collapsing upon settling into the vehicle, the couple embraced before tears began to be shed; first by Max then by Victoria. With her arms clutching the blonde tight, she shut her eyes tight in an effort to block the outside world as her mind began to process the gravity of what had transpired.

“It’s over,” the hipster finally said, breaking away from the embrace.

Eventually, the pair returned to Blackwell, where the evening’s festivities were still in full swing. Judging by the state of the campus, one could easily be convinced that the storm had hit the area. The parking lot was littered with trash and cars where left in a manner suggesting that no one was familiar with the concept of a parking space. Observing the various sites along the sidewalk, this hipster was filled with a mix of discontent and revulsion over the oblivious nature of the party goers, none the wiser of what potential disaster could’ve befallen them had she been unable to escape from the darkroom. While making their way to the dorms, the girls were forced to maneuver around several drunken students with only the faint sound of a beat to distract from the sound of someone throwing up in some bushes. Venturing further from the pool building, they exchanged one unpleasant sight for another, as they encountered several of Mr. Jefferson’s most notable works on display along the sidewalk.

Exhausted from the entire ordeal, not just in the last two days but rather the last two weeks, Max and Victoria proceeded directly to the blonde’s dorm in an attempt to find rest. The majority of the trip through the campus was in silence as neither was entire confident on what an appropriate conversation would be as Victoria’s intention was to wait for her girlfriend to be ready to talk. Whereas Max was content to merely hold the other girls hand as they walked, her mind in too thick a haze to be able to handle anything more than that at the moment. In the event that she had succeeded, Max had hoped that the experience would be that of euphoria or at the very least, comfort over the prospect of returning to a normal life again. But that was a far cry from what the hipster was actually experiencing, as at this conjure, she felt numb.

Laying in the dark, the room slightly illuminated by the moonlight, Max stared at the wall as sleep continued to evade her. As the two lay together on the hipster’s bed, the finality of the evening became apparent as her brain began to process what had transpired. While occupying the little spoon position, the ache in her heart took a measure of solace from being held tight in Victoria’s embrace. It was in this moment that she had been afforded an opportunity to reflect on horrors she had been subjected to; that evening and in the two weeks prior. The following morning, Max had been awoken by the by the sound of the local news echoing throughout the room. Reluctantly rising from the slumber, she noticed Victoria sitting with her arms crossed and her right hand against her mouth, completely fixated on the television.  

“So… are you going to tell me what happened last night?”

“V… it’s over,” Max stammered, suddenly feeling nervous. “That’s all that matters.”

“No… it’s not…”

As the blonde’s voice trailed off, its presence was filled by a momentary awkward silence before being replaced by the robotic tone of the news reporter. Following Victoria’s line of sight to the television, Max saw the familiar reporter Maggie Maggenhall standing a short distance from the charred remains of the Prescott barn.

“Details are scarce at this point… but my sources have confirmed that two bodies have been removed from what appears to be a lower level of the barn. No words on potential ID’s but public records have confirmed that this was the property of local businessman, Sean Prescott.” 

“Did you start that fire, Max?” Victoria began somberly while turning to face the hipster. “Did you kill them…?”

“I didn’t think… he wasn’t supposed to,” Max eventually stammered in response after the blonde’s words broke through the initial shock of the announcement. “It was just supposed to…”

 

During the initial consideration of the plan, the former brunette thought that Prescott’s safety had been accounted for. But there was one aspect of the bunker that she had failed to consider in the moment. While Max had been correct in the assertion that the cement and steel would keep the darkroom intact, she had not considered the bunkers air supply. The bunker was equipped with its own heat and water supply, but still relied on outside air for oxygen. As the fire raged over head, the facilities ventilation system pulled the smoke and heat into the darkroom. As a consequence, Prescott had suffered a slow, agonizing death from smoke inhalation before the firefighters even arrived on the scene.

The news of Prescott’s death hit Max hard despite hating the man for his part in Chloe’s death. A portion of the responsibility fell directly on him; for denying Nathan the help he needed, building the bunker, and financing the equipment within. Therefore, the whole conspiracy couldn’t have happened without his involvement. Although, in spite of that, she didn’t feel he deserved to die as a result. As the news was reported, Max could only stare in silence at the TV before starting to tremble when it was reported that the smoke and heat had been drawn into the bunker. Not wanting to believe what was next; Max broke down and sobbed at the announcement of bodies being recovered.

“I thought this was about justice, Max? What… what happened last night?”

“Prescott wasn’t supposed to die… I just thought they’d find him with Warren…”

“Warren? Wait what… why was he there? What happened to Jefferson?”

Unable to withhold the details any longer, the blondes line of questioning convinced Max reveal all that had happened the previous night. Eventually arriving at the fateful choice, the hipster winced at the look of shock in the blonde’s eyes, despite the best effort of the latter, when it was revealed that she left Jefferson to meet his fate. Victoria’s heart broke at the sight of the brunette, as the girl’s body language and emptiness behind her eyes revealed the extent of the toll the endeavor had taken. The entire ordeal with Jefferson had understandably changed the hipster, but the blonde held on to hope that the girl she had been so envious of since her arrival at Blackwell still remained within. As the days began to pass, it fell to the pair to attempt to resume a normal life. Their relationship had been able to withstand the initial impact of the revelations, but the dynamic between them had been changed as the each struggle to move past what had happened.

So much had been lost to the darkroom; Chloe, Rachel, and Warren, in addition to the entirety of Max’s spirit. In the end, she had sacrificed everything, as her actions had been dictated out of fear of the unknown, fear of the possibility that Jefferson wouldn’t be held accountable for his actions. In that final moment, the hipster allowed her heart to override her mind, and in doing so had potentially lost herself in the process. If that last remnant of her former self had been shattered, Max recognized that she was unlikely to ever recover some semblance of the person she had been on that fateful day in the girl’s bathroom at Blackwell Academy.

The following day, news regarding Jefferson’s fate broke after his body had been discovered by a group of teenagers arriving at the junkyard with the intention to party. The national media had initially picked up the story under the context of a renowned photographer being found dead in the junkyard under suspicious circumstances. Likely due to the fact that some of the more scandalous details had been slower to leak outside of the bubble that was Arcadia Bay. Eventually, the truth began to surface after the footage leaked and the red binders had turned up in a search of Jefferson’s apartment. The discovery of which eventually led the authorities uncover the true nature of the darkroom, as the whole affair had caused a media frenzy on a global scale. With Jefferson gone, his assets were eventually awarded to the surviving victims. With the patriarch of the Prescott family gone as well, his family became besieged by massive civil law suits, which resulted in both the loss of the family wealth and prestige. Eventually, this resulted in the Prescott’s abandoning Arcadia Bay and allowing the town to be out from under their thumb.

In time, new investors would come to Arcadia Bay and the town experienced a renaissance of sorts, with the fishing port and lumber mill being reopened and creating an influx jobs and people moving to the city. It had been costly, and at times the prospects had seemed bleak, but Arcadia Bay had been rid of its two most corrupting forces. Finally, it seemed Arcadia Bay would get a second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... did this chapter have enough variance to make the shift in Max believable? thanks for reading, one chapter to go.


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50 (32B-C) – Photo Jump – Summer 14

Max tried to move on; she tried to leave the past behind her.

It had been eight months since Chloe passed and Max found her vengeance by choosing to leave Jefferson and Prescott to whatever fate had in store for them. At the time she was consumed by need to get justice for Chloe and all the girls hurt in the darkroom, but the obsession ended up costing her everything. After being initially focused on what had happened in the darkroom, eventually Arcadia and the rest of the world moved on, leaving Max in their wake. Now Max would be forced to move on, as she had graduated from Blackwell Academy and had to move out of the dorms.

As Max walked away that night leaving everything behind at the junkyard, she felt a level of satisfaction sure of the fact that she had won. But as the days turned to weeks, Max realized that she in fact had lost. Having lost not only everything she had, but herself as well. When she left the two men behind she also left behind the last of her humanity. The shy, anxious hipster she had been when she arrived at Blackwell was gone, replaced by a numb husk of the girl she had been.

To her credit, Victoria tried to pull Max back from the brink. As the only one that truly knew what had happened to her; she felt a responsibility to save her after she had saved so many. It broke her heart to see what had become of the girl she had once known. But Max continued to shut her out, no matter what she had tried. Eventually, Victoria had given up. She tried to stay with her, even believing that she had loved her at one point. But as time passed, Victoria realized that she loved the person Max had been, not the shell that she had become. After her final desperate attempt to pull Max back to reality to join the rest of society had failed, Victoria left Max a note as she went off to college.

 

_Max,_

_I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch you let life pass you by as you are consumed by grief._

_I have to move on, I’m sorry. When I was accepted to Cal AI, I had hoped that you would be coming with me, but you never even applied._

_I tried to help you, but I can’t do that if you won’t let me. I’m still here for you if you decide you want my help, but I can’t wait around for you anymore. I miss the hipster you used to be. I know she’s lost, but I want to help you find her again._

_Goodbye Max, please take care of yourself._

_❤_ _V_

Max had found the note the day after their graduation from Blackwell. She wasn’t surprised Victoria had chosen to leave, in fact part of wanted her to since she didn’t think Victoria would ever find happiness with her. Now alone, Max held on to the only thing she had left, the only thing she could still feel; her love for Chloe Price.  She had begun visiting Chloe’s grave on a regular basis as a means to maintain her connection to her. But overtime this connection became a dependence, as she shut out the rest of the world and turned away every hand that had been extended to her.

As Max approached Chloe’s grave, she knew that Chloe would want her to move on and to find happiness, but Max just didn’t feel like that was possible after everything she had been through, or at least not at that point. Having reached the grave, Max replaced the flowers with fresh blue roses.

“Hey Chloe…” Max said before a pause realizing she was struggling to find the words for what she had to say next. “I had to move out the dorms at Blackwell. I’m going back to Seattle, to live with my parents for a while,” she finished finally managing to get the words out after having more difficulty than she anticipated.

“I know you’re probably thinking that this is for the best, that I’ve been coming here too much, and your probably right,” Max admitted. “I know I need to move on, to make an attempt at a normal life but...I’m just not ready yet,” She finished with tears forming in her eyes.”

“I’m trying Chloe…I promise,” she swore before reaching for her guitar.

“I thought I’d play a song for you today before I left,” she offered to the tombstone. “I thought this would be a good idea since you never got a chance to see me play,” Max finished before again having to wipe tears from her eyes. “This is Better Then, by Koethe.”

 

_I close my eyes_

_It’s like I’m still alive_

_Don’t wake me up until_

_Don’t wake me up until_

_The silent night_

_It tears me up inside_

_And I can feel you still_

_And I can feel you still_

_A bleeding heart for things we left unsaid_

_The phantom in my head_

_The phantom in my head_

_A creeping thought, the joy that I can’t find_

_It can’t escape my mind_

_I can’t escape my mind_

_And I, now I hate to face the end_

_So could you let me just pretend_

_I’d give up everything I’ve left_

_And I’ll never know your like again_

_You were the best I’d ever been_

_I know that things were better then_

As Max played through the song, she could feel her emotions continuously rising to the surface. During the song, she had encountered a few lyrics, such as ‘and I can feel you still, and ‘I’ll never know your like again,’ that brought her to the verge of tears and she struggled to keep singing. She had tried her best to get through the song but broke down completely at the sight of the blue butterfly landing on Chloe’s tombstone.

“Goodbye Chloe… I’ll always keep my promise,” Max said as her final words before kissing her fingers before pressing them against Chloe’s tombstone.

After taking a few moments to collect herself, she collected her things and returned to her father who had been waiting for her to finish saying goodbye. After she entered the car, no words were spoken; Ryan just threw his arms around his daughter in an attempt to comfort her as best as he could.  Finally breaking the hug after a few minutes, Ryan put the car in drive and began the return trip to Seattle.

As the car sped down the road, Max found herself torn between two choices. Finally arriving at a decision, she pulled out her phone to send a text.

**Max:** Hey V... how’s San Francisco?

The thought of putting herself back out there terrified Max, but she would never know if she could get back to a normal life if she never tried. Wrecked with sender’s remorse, she shouldn’t do this she thought; just let her move on with her life, she’d be better off without me. As these thoughts plagued her mind, Max remembered the last time she had thought that someone was better off without her. In the next moment, she felt her phone start to vibrate. Looking down, an involuntary smile crossed her face at the sight of Victoria’s name and picture.

**Victoria:** It’s great, you’d love it here! Are you thinking of applying to colleges down here?

_Leave it to Victoria to cut right to the chase, Max thought after reading the text._

Max was torn over how she should respond. She wanted to move on, but as to this point she had been unable to. Was she ready for this? Would she ever be ready for this? If she put herself out there and failed would it be the final blow that crushed Max’s will completely? If she never put herself out there, would the regret at never taking a chance be worse than the feeling of defeat from having failed?

Having finally decided, Max let out a sigh before glancing down at the last message received from Victoria…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right... this is the last chapter. Thanks to everyone who has read this. Please feel free to share any thoughts. I may type up some final thoughts about the whole fic and provide some insight on some of the choices I made, so if the fic is updated again it will probably be that. I also have a couple ideas for one shots taking place in this world, the first would likely be Max and Victoria attend a Halloween party dressed as the other and hilarity would ensure (hopefully) as they each imitate the other. Otherwise I am currently working on an amberprice fic that details the days leading to Rachels disappearance, tentatively titled "Currents of Fate." So keep an eye out for that if interested.


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